


Spideypool Smutmas

by ArabellaFaith



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Anal Sex, Beauty and the Beast Elements, December Fanfic Challenge, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Mental Instability, Multiple Universes, Oral Sex, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 28,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21713413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArabellaFaith/pseuds/ArabellaFaith
Summary: Based on the Taboo Writing Challenge 31 day prompt.  A Deadpool/Spiderman fic with each chapter containing a kinky prompt (which has been gratuitously abused to suit my purposes).Deadpool has gone feral and a demon has him trapped in a pocket dimension.  Peter rushes to save him, not stopping to think about how dangerous - or dirty - of a job it might be.  Smut, angst, and fluff ensues.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 151
Kudos: 529





	1. Introduction

This was, without a doubt, the  _ stupidest _ thing Peter had ever done. And Peter had done some stupid shit in his twenty two years.

Really, though, it wasn’t as though he’d had time to  _ think _ about his decision. No matter how many supernatural, extraordinary, absolutely bat shit crazy things happened - and they did seem to happen often in a superhero’s life - he never got used to it. He was still just a poor college kid, dealing with poor college kid problems, like getting his labs completed on time, and stretching out his meager salary by eating almost nothing but instant noodles. Even knowing that all these insane, impossible things existed in the world, he never  _ expected _ them.

So when, after a battle with the Avengers against a  _ literal fucking demon, _ one of the bad guys taunted that they had a super trapped in an alternate dimention, he hadn’t had any idea what to do.

Until the demon had said that the one he had was Deadpool.

Peter didn’t have to see the less than sympathetic look on the other Avengers’ faces to know that  _ he _ was going to be the one to save the merc. Peter hadn’t even spared them a glance. He’d just grabbed the demon by the collar and demand to be taken to him.

And then, Peter B Parker, friendly neighborhood idiot, made a deal with a devil.

Which had landed him here, standing in front of a ridiculously over dramatic gothic castle in an alternate dimension. There were gargoyles on the parapets. Lightning slashed across the sky. Peter rolled his eyes. “This place couldn’t be any more cliche if they  _ tried,” _ he muttered.

It was entirely possible that with how story-book the setting was, the demon’s trap would be easy to get out of. Maybe Wade just needed a kiss or something. That sounded about right. A quick kiss, break the spell, beat the demon’s game, get the hell outta this place, and everything could go back to normal. If he was really lucky, Deadpool wouldn’t even remember any of it, and they could resume their tentative friendship/partnership.

Easy peasy.

Okay, so maybe it would also be a teeny,  _ tiny _ bit exciting. Peter _ might _ have imagined, on more than one occasion, what it would be like to take Deadpool up on his outrageous come-ons. To give into that obviously not-serious flirting. To kiss the man who made Spiderman, fully functioning super strong mutant hero, feel downright petite. To find out if  _ Merc with a Mouth _ had more than one meaning.

Yeah, this little excursion wouldn’t be a hardship.

So - stupid, yes. Did he regret it? No. Now, all he needed to do was get inside that castle. The demon had told him that Deadpool had ‘gone feral,’ whatever that meant, and was trapped in this pocket dimension. Their deal was that if Peter could ‘bring Deadpool back to himself,’ then they both went free. If not, then Peter would be trapped here with an insane mercenary forever. Or possibly until Wade killed him - Peter hadn’t read the fine print.

Still, Peter wasn’t worried about that. He hadn’t seen Wade at his worst, back when he’d been nothing but a cold blooded killer, but he knew the man Wade was  _ now, _ and that was enough for him.

He could do this. He took a deep breath, and pushed open the castle doors.


	2. Maybe if you ask nicely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, a little info here. This fic is based around both movie and comic versions of these characters, though you don't need much actual knowledge of their stories to get the gist of this tale. The main piece of background you need is that at one point in the comics, Wade is assaulted by a villain named Typhoid Mary. She comes to him disguised as the woman he actually cares for, seduces him, and then reveals herself in the morning. This incident is sort of rock bottom for Deadpool's character, and he spirals out of control after that. In this story, that event is a few years behind him, and he's started on his redemption arc, but it's still very much a real trauma to him.
> 
> Also, these prompts are meant for very specific kinks, but I have incorperated them pretty much any way I wanted. Have no fear, however, plenty of kinky sexy times lie ahead!

_ Maybe if you ask nicely _

  
  


The inside of the castle was dark. It might have been eerie, if Peter’s night vision wasn’t so great. He could see a grand staircase in front of him, split into two circling cases that met on the first landing. To his right and left were long hallways. The air was stale, as though nothing had moved inside for a long time. Which couldn’t be true, of course. The castle, this entire pocket universe, hadn’t existed for more than a few days. Still, it was uncomfortable.

There was another smell in the air, one that Peter recognized with a sinking heart.  _ Blood. _ The scent was heavy, as though there was a lot of it spilled nearby. If there wasn’t anyone else in this dimension, then it had to be Wade’s. Peter knew that he healed from anything, and was often cavalier about his injuries, but he still felt pain, and Peter didn’t want to think about how hurt he must have been to have lost so much blood.

There was a low growl somewhere above, and Peter lifted his head, searching the shadows.

_ “Who the fuck are you,” _ came the rumbling demand. 

It sent shivers up Peter’s spine. “Wade?”

The growl became a vicious snarl.  _ “Wrong answer.” _

There was a ground shaking  _ thud _ as an immense weight dropped to the floor.  _ Superhero landing, _ Deadpool might have called it. To Peter, it looked more like a wild animal crouched to attack. Slowly, the figure rose to its feet.

Even if he didn’t know that Deadpool was the only one here, Peter would have recognized that intimidating stature. He looked different somehow, larger, maybe, his skin rippled so much it was visible even through the thick leather of his trademark suit, but still, it was Wade. His mask was on his head, but the bottom untucked and loose around his chin. Peter had seen Deadpool wear it like that on multiple occasions, to eat or talk more freely, but suddenly it looked more like a gallows hood than a superhero mask.

“Wade-” Peter wasn’t sure what to say.  _ I’m here to help, _ or  _ It’s me, your occasional partner, _ didn’t seem like they would do the trick. He didn’t have time to think of anything better, though, because Deadpool took a step towards him, then another, then another. Then he was running, straight at Peter, all two hundred plus pounds of him aimed with deadly menace.

Peter could have jumped out of the way. Should have. But he also worried that in Wade’s current mental state, it would be akin to waving a red flag in front of a bull.

Fitting, since he was wearing mostly red.

Instead, he planted his feet and put out his arms to try and brace for the impact. It didn’t help. Wade slammed into him with the force of a freight train, ramming Peter against the wall. The wall cracked ominously behind him. Peter’s ears rang, his head throbbed, and his lungs were burning from the weight of Deadpool crushing the air out of them. His hands scrabbled at Wade’s back, trying to find purchase.

“W- Wa-” He tried to force out the word again, but his lungs wheezed painfully. Deadpool slammed his shoulder against Peter’s ribs again.

“I’ll only ask one more time,” Wade whispered.  _ “Who are you?” _

This time, Peter didn’t dawdle. “S-Spider-”

The weight against his chest eased as Deadpool raised his head. For a moment, Peter thought he saw shock, pleasure, in that impossibly expressive mask. But then, Deadpool laughed. It was a low, dark sound.

“Spidey?” He threw his head back and laughed louder. Both hands came up and gripped Peter’s shoulders painfully. “That’s who you’re pretending to be? You’re a fucking idiot. Not even I’m stupid enough to fall for that.”

“Deadpool-”

“I know,” Deadpool growled, his eyes slightly unfocused. “Of course I fucking know!” And then he shook his head as if to clear it. He smirked. Peter had seen that smirk countless times through the mask, but it had never looked so unhinged. “Last time this happened, I  _ was _ stupid enough to fall for it. Just fucking dumb enough to think she  _ wanted _ me, that I could have something  _ good, _ and I let that goddamn monster rape me because I was so~o  _ stupid. _ ”

Peter flinched visibly. He had no idea what Wade was talking about, but it sounded horrifying.

“So maybe,” Wade went on, lowering his face to Peter’s neck and inhaling sharply, “maybe this time, I’ll just go along with it. Can’t rape the willing, can you?”

“Wade, that’s not-”

_ “Shut up,” _ he snarled. “You just go on pretending to be Spiderman, and I’ll give you what you want. This is what you want, isn’t it?” He thrust his thigh roughly between Peter’s legs, pushing against his cock. “For me to fuck him? Give me a taste of something I can never have? Or maybe you’re going to play hard to get… get me to  _ force _ him. Let me hear him pleading for me to stop. Torture me with the sounds of his pain. That’s pretty fucking sadistic, even to a piece of shit like me. But if that’s how this goes then I’ll play along.”

One of his hands shifted, wrapping around Peter’s throat and squeezing. He lifted Peter off his feet, hitching one of his legs around his waist and grinding his erection against Peter’s groin. Peter’s hands came up to Wade’s shoulders, not pushing with his full strength, but trying to stem the tide. This was so fucked up. So fucked up. How was he supposed to-

Wade suddenly froze. Peter thought he’d stopped, but there was a preternatural stillness to the air. Time was frozen, but Peter wasn’t frozen with it.

There was a blink of light, and suddenly the demon was floating in the air just beyond Deadpool’s shoulder. It flashed sharp teeth as it laughed.

“Well well well, this is even better than I’d expected!” It rubbed its hands together in pleasure. “What do you think of him now? Is the poow wittle hewo going to be able to save him?” The demon sing-songed mockingly. “I’ll tell you what.  **Maybe, if you ask nicely,** I’ll let you go. Just pretend this little… error in judgement never happened.  _ He _ will have to stay here, of course, and you’ll owe me a favor, but-”

“Go to hell,” Peter snapped. 

The demon cackled. “Oh, but this is  _ so _ much more fun than boring old hell.” It cackled again, then snapped it’s jaws and looked vicious once more. “Don’t think you’re going to get this offer twice,” it hissed. “Make a deal with me now, or I’m leaving this little shithole and not looking back. No one will be able to hear you, no matter how much you scream.”

He hated himself for it, but for half a moment, Peter considered. He knew what Wade wanted to do to him. Peter was stronger, and faster, but Wade was strong and fast too, and his endurance was inhuman. He could  _ outlast _ Peter, and just take what he wanted when Peter couldn’t fight any more.

But Peter couldn’t believe that there was no way to reach Wade. No way to help him. And he couldn’t leave him here with this madness. Peter’s stomach clenched at the memory of what Wade had said to him, about what had been done to him, about what he thought would be done to him again. No, Peter  _ wouldn’t _ desert him. This wouldn’t be a fairytale simple fix, but he’d find a way.

Usually, Peter wasn’t one for vulgarities, but he felt this situation called for an exception. He narrowed his eyes at the demon. “Fuck off.”

It gaped at him for a moment, disbelieving, then snarled and vanished with a pop.

Time resumed. Deadpool’s hand tightened on Peter’s throat. Now that the initial panic had left him, Peter was able to calm his racing heart and think. He looked at Deadpool’s face. There was fury there, madness too. Lust. But also pain, and fear. Peter lifted one hand to cup Wade’s jaw gently. Wade stilled, his breath catching at the contact despite his tumultuous emotions.

It was just what Peter needed. He dropped his other hand to the center of Deadpool’s chest, braced his feet against the wall, and shoved Deadpool as hard as his superhuman strength allowed. Deadpool flew back, giving Peter just enough time to sling a web at the ceiling and pull himself up. Deadpool was up in a flash, charging, but Peter was out of reach, hanging upside down above him.

“Alright, tiger, we’re just going to take this one step at a time,” Peter said, forcing his voice to be steady and confident.

“Get the fuck down here!”

“Nope, sorry, no can do. See, you’re operating under the assumption that I’m not who I say I am. So until I can convince you otherwise, we’re doing this my way.”


	3. I can't hold it in any more

_ I can’t hold it in any more _

  
  


Peter was confident that he was temporarily out of Deadpool’s reach. He watched Wade below him, smashing anything in sight like a beast on a rampage. It wasn’t until Wade took a running start at the wall that Peter felt a frisson of alarm. Wade jumped impossibly high, kicked off the wall, and snatched at the air where Peter had been only a split second before.

As much as he wanted to be impressed by Deadpool’s skill, Peter knew he needed a different plan. Part of him thought the simplest thing to do would be to web Wade and  _ force _ him to listen… But after what he’d said earlier, Peter didn’t think he could do it. He had no idea what Wade had been talking about, but it was clear that he’d been assaulted at some point. Being held down couldn’t be the best thing for his state of mind. Instead, Peter swung away.

***

Even from across the castle, Peter heard Deadpool’s rampage go on for a long time. It was worse when the growling and cursing turned into sobs and screams.

Peter forced himself to ignore the heart wrenching sounds and think. Now that he knew what he was truly up against, he needed a plan. And he needed to make some decisions about what, exactly, he was willing to do in order to save Wade.

How far would he let this go?

How much could he really prevent?

At the moment, he was safe, but eventually he would need to rest. To sleep. And what would happen if he made a mistake and Deadpool caught him? He could be killed. Peter didn’t want to die, and he didn’t want his death on Wade’s conscience - if he was ever in his right mind to realize what he’d done.

No, Peter couldn’t wait around like an animal being hunted. He needed to face Wade, head on, and find some way to reach him.

His original idea slid tantalizingly into his mind.  _ Kissing _ Wade. It seemed foolish now that he knew the severity of the situation, but maybe it wasn’t totally baseless. If he could just…  _ make _ Wade see that he was real, that he cared, surely that would help him regain some mental stability. He’d seemed so  _ certain _ that Peter would never come for him.

Yes, Peter had never responded to Deadpool’s flirting when they’d worked together, and in the beginning, Peter had barely been able to stand the grey moraled anti-hero. But things had changed. Deadpool had changed, and so had Peter. 

Wade liked to say that Spiderman was innocent, but that wasn’t true. Peter had seen horrors in his life. He still wanted to believe that things could be fixed, and he wanted to cling to a set of ideals because without them what was there to cling to? But over the years, he’d learned that not every problem could be solved the ‘right’ way. There were some people who  _ couldn’t exist _ in order for others to be safe.

Deadpool took care of those people.

And what Peter had originally thought was a callous disregard for life had actually turned out to be a wisecracking exterior that hid an individual moral code that Deadpool followed. He wasn’t perfect, but he vetted his jobs to the best of his abilities and only ‘unalived’ people that he believed truly deserved it. And, when Spiderman had told him that they couldn’t work together unless Wade didn’t kill, the mercenary had done everything he could to hold up his end of the deal.

Peter didn’t always understand him, with his relentless flirting and his conversations with himself and his often childlike excitement for random things, but he knew that Wade wasn’t a bad man. He’d proven that to Peter. And Peter had grown enough to recognize it.

Violence wasn’t the answer in facing Deadpool. But maybe acceptance was. Maybe, if Spiderman could get Wade to  _ believe _ that someone would come for him, that someone wanted to save him, then Wade could believe that Peter was who he claimed to be. The only question was how.

Maybe Peter could do something he’d been too much a coward to do before. Maybe he could give in to the lust that he felt for Wade. He could accept the madness in Deadpool, and coax out the heart of him, too.

Peter felt twin bolts of arousal and fear at the idea of letting Wade have his way with him. Wade could be dangerous, Peter knew. And while he was sure that Wade didn’t ever want to hurt him, he also knew that this wasn’t Wade in his right mind. There was every chance that this could go so terribly wrong.

He was forcing himself to believe that it wouldn’t come to that when his senses tingled. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up. His eyes swung to the door, which he’d locked and webbed shut, and it was still secure. He felt breath on the back of his neck before he thought to turn and check the window.

“Hey there, baby boy,” Deadpool whispered.

Peter whirled, springing up toward the ceiling. He couldn’t get out the door. The window was his only option, but he had to go through Deadpool to get there-

But Peter wasn’t supposed to be running anymore. He leaped to the other corner of the ceiling when Deadpool snatched at him, then shot a web that secured one of Wade’s hands to the wall.

“Wait!”

Deadpool snarled and wrenched his hand free. As much as he hated to do it, Peter shot him again.

“I said  _ wait!” _

“But you’ve already made me wait,” Deadpool snapped. He pulled his hand free, and Peter shot it back  _ again. _ “You can’t get away from me this time.”

“I’m not trying to get away!”

Deadpool stilled.

“I- Wade, this isn’t how I wanted to do this, but  **I can’t hold it in any more** . I… care. About you. I-” Peter shook his head. Now or never. “I  _ want _ you.”

“No one wants me,” Deadpool snarled.

“I do! I’ve wanted you since the night you saved that girl who was going to kill herself. When I stopped being so bound to one set of ideals that I was blind to any others. Since I saw  _ you, _ for who you really are. If you’d have asked me to go home with you that night, I would have. But you didn’t, and by the time you made a pass at me again, I was too much of a coward to agree. If you’d been joking, I couldn’t-” Peter inched down the wall. “But you’re not joking now.”

“Not joking now,” Deadpool repeated slowly. “And not buying your shit, either.” He sounded less sure, though.

“Wade, I-”

“Prove it.”


	4. The homework can wait

_ The homework can wait _

  
  


Peter blinked. “What?”

“Prove. It. You wanna convince me that you  _ want _ me? Then prove it. Come over here and let me split you open with my cock, Spidey-wannabe.”

“Fine.” Peter swallowed thickly, taking small satisfaction in the obvious shock on Deadpool’s mask. He dropped slowly away from the wall, letting his feet hit the floor. “But I’ve got some ground rules.”

“I don’t play by the rules, baby.”

“Requests, then. For me, Wade.”

Deadpool paused, then, “I’m not making any promises.”

“You rarely do,” Peter said, knowing it was true. Wade liked to keep his word, so he didn’t give it lightly. “Don’t treat me like you don’t believe who I am.”

“I  _ don’t _ believe who you are.”

“I mean- don’t try to hurt me.”

“It’s going to hurt either way,” Deadpool muttered. “Why do you think I never seriously pursued the real Spiderman? I’m not a gentleman. I wasn’t gentle even when I was a man, and not a monster.”

“Wade-”

“But I’m not a sadist.” He got that far away look in his eyes, and shook his head. “No, stupid, that’s  _ masochist. _ And we aren’t that, either.” He groaned. “That doesn’t count.” A pause. “It’s not like it  _ matters. _ It’s not him!” His gaze focused on Peter again. “I’ll  _ try _ not to  _ try _ to hurt you. It’s not like I want to, with you in that body.”

Peter nodded, acknowledging that it was the best he was going to get with Wade in this state. “And I want you to take your mask off.”

_ “No,” _ Deadpool said, voice cracking like a whip. He seemed almost shocked at his own vehemence. “You think I’m gonna give you the chance to look at me with those eyes?” He laughed mirthlessly. “Maybe if you survive this I’ll give you the opportunity to  _ earn _ it. You’re gonna have to show me a  _ real _ good time to get me to let you torture me that much.”

“Fine.”

It wasn’t ideal - Peter was sure that having Wade see him accepting him physically was as much about the scars as it was about sex - but he would take what he could get. For now, he needed to start slowly. Or, as slowly as this bass ackwards situation would allow him to. He needed to earn Wade’s trust.

Deadpool wrenched his arm free with ease and stalked towards Peter. The leer on his face was unmistakable. Peter braced himself, expecting Wade to pin him to the wall again, but was surprised. Deadpool hefted Peter over his shoulder like a sack of grain. He slapped Peter’s ass and then sauntered out of the room, whistling.

Peter fought the urge to roll his eyes. Only Deadpool would equate  _ this _ to sweeping someone off their feet. If this was his idea of romance, they’d be here for a long time. Peter spared a thought wondering if time flowed the same here as it did in his dimension. Patrolling, work, school…

_ Oh well, _ he thought.  _ The homework can wait. _


	5. Make it fit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning, this is where this story starts to earn its dub-con tag. This situation is dubious on both their parts, since Peter (while yes, giving consent) is being coerced, and Wade isnt in his right mind. The issue is addressed both in this chapter and later ones. If this squicks you out, then this story might not be for you. Otherwise, enjoy!

_ Make it fit _

  
  


Wade tossed Peter down on a surface that could only loosely be described as a bed. The blankets on it were covered in blood and what Peter guessed was old semen. He wrinkled his nose.

“Not good enough for you, princess?” Deadpool sneered.

“I appreciate the sentiment of a bed, but the wall might’ve been more sanitary.”

Deadpool’s gaze shifted, his face twisting. “I  _ told _ you,” he hissed. “Well la de flipping da! This is about what I want!” He turned back to Peter and repeated it, his voice gravelly. “This is about what  _ I  _ want.”

“I want it too.”

“Shut up,” Deadpool snapped. He crowded Peter back against the bed, and slipped a hand under the waist of his suit. Peter jumped at the touch. The leather of Deadpool’s gloves was cool, and just textured enough that it brought goosebumps to his skin. The hand working his suit off was insistent, but not unnecessarily rough. Still, Peter found himself shifting uncomfortably with every inch of his skin that was bared.  _ “Stop it.” _

The threatening growl made Peter still immediately.

“I told you I’d try,” Deadpool muttered through gritted teeth. “But you keep wiggling like that and I’m gonna be able to stop myself from shoving you face down and fucking you dry.”

“Oh, shi-” Peter went cold with dread as he realized they were lacking one  _ very _ important supply. “Please tell me you’ve got lube here somewhere,” he said in a small voice.

Wade snickered. “Aw, I’d almost think you were actually scared.” He reached out and grabbed a bottle that Peter was certain  _ hadn’t _ been beside them a moment before. “Lucky for you, I prefer the glide.” He stripped off the last of the suit’s bottom in one yank and shoved Peter’s thighs apart. Peter was glad that his mask hid the way his face flamed. “Y’know, the  _ real _ Spidey would’ve gotten some high class stuff. Maybe strawberry flavored.” Deadpool coated two fingers in the slick liquid and pressed them unyieldingly into Peter.

Peter bit back a hiss of discomfort. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t experimented with his own fingers before. Wade’s were  _ much _ bigger, though, and he didn’t seem inclined to go slowly.

“He’d like strawberry,” Deadpool continued, taking no notice of Peter’s silence. “Maybe cherry. None of that banana crap, that’s for sure.”

“Watermelon,” Peter grit out, eyes squeezing shut as Deadpool brusquely added a third finger. “I like,” he panted, trying to force his body to relax, “watermelon flavored ones.”

Deadpool’s fingers stilled. “Ooh, but you have done your homework, haven’t you? Who told you I give the kid all my watermelon starbursts?”

“You did!” Peter forced his eyes open. “I mentioned it  _ once, _ and then we sat on the roof of that building that night and you pulled a pack of starbursts from god-knows-where in your suit, and you spent an  _ hour _ sorting through them in the dark to find the watermelon ones, even though I said they were all fine. But you said-”

“They weren’t good enough for you,” Wade whispered. For a moment, Peter thought he had him. The way Wade was looking down at him, his eyes soft under his fluttering mask, was so much like the Deadpool that Peter knew and loved. But then the expression hardened. The fingers in Peter’s ass began to shove in relentlessly. “You shouldn’t go peeping in on people’s private moments,” he snarled. “Some people don’t like being watched.” 

The rage left as quickly as it had come, and his hand withdrew. Peter barley had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief before a predatory smile twisted the mask. “But I don’t mind if that’s your thing. Want to make a whole line of Spidey’s to look on while I fuck this one?” He shoved his pants down just low enough for his cock to spring free, stroking it once with his lube-covered hand. “Want them to watch as I force my cock inside this pretty little hole? Watch while I stretch you open enough to  **make it fit** ?”

Peter sucked in a breath as he looked down at what Wade intended to put inside him. There were plenty of times Deadpool had popped an inappropriate boner when they were together, and Peter had seen the outline of it through the suit, but apparently all that leather had been constricting it. Maybe, if he’d been looking at it objectively, it would have only looked slightly larger than average. But from his current angle, on his back with his legs spread, it looked  _ huge. _

And Wade wasted no time pushing the head of it against Peter. Against his will, Peter’s muscles clenched. He put a hand against Wade’s chest before Wade could just force past the resistance.

“You don’t want to hurt me,” he reminded Deadpool, trying to keep his voice even. 

“Oh, you’re wrong there. I want to tear your fucking heart out. It’s my itsy bitsy spider that I don’t want to hurt. You’re just wearing his face.” Deadpool pushed forward, the head of his cock sinking inside Peter. Peter whimpered, immediately ashamed of the sound. He turned his head so that he wouldn’t have to watch.

To his surprise, Wade slowed. He didn’t stop, but he pulled back a little, lessening the sting, and when he pushed forward again, it was more carefully.

“You’re good, you know,” Deadpool said angrily, belying his more gentle thrusts. “I could almost believe you’ve never done this before.”

“I  _ haven’t.” _

Wade laughed. “Oh, you’re going to try and convince me that Spiderman’s a virgin now?”

“I’m not a virgin!” Peter snapped, hating the way the word sounded. “I’ve done plenty of things! Just- just not  _ this.” _

“You say it so much like he would that I can  _ almost _ buy it. Maybe he hasn’t let anyone fuck him yet. But  _ you  _ have, haven’t you? I bet you’re a regular little cock slut, aren’t you? You must love the way it feels to be fucked rough and dirty like this. You’ve got to be quite the cum-dump to let someone like  _ me _ fuck you.”

Peter could only shake his head, overwhelmed by the ugly words and the feeling of Wade finally bottoming out inside him. Wade’s cock twitched, amplifying the feeling of almost unbearable fullness, and Peter whimpered again.

“Touch yourself,” Deadpool suddenly demanded. When he didn’t immediately comply, Wade took Peter’s hand and shoved it down at his flaccid penis. “Get yourself hard. Snap your fingers or do whatever you do to manipulate this body.”

“I can’t-”

“Do it  _ now,” _ Wade growled. “I want to see him hard while I’m fucking him. I want to see him  _ like  _ it.”

“Then maybe you should have tried a little more foreplay,” Peter snapped. His bravado subsided as Wade growled threateningly again. Peter gripped himself, stroking slowly, trying to coax a reaction out of his body. It was still too much - the burn of the stretch, his worry about Wade’s mind, the fear for his own safety - but then Deadpool started moving in time with Peter’s halting strokes, and, it didn’t feel good, exactly, but it stopped feeling  _ bad. _

“That’s it,” Wade groaned. “Let me see it.” 

Peter felt a little shiver of pleasure as he moved his hand at the same time Deadpool’s cock found and knocked against his prostate. His own cock twitched, filling the rest of the way out into a full erection. Peter didn’t know how he felt about it. Part of him thought he should latch onto any small bit of enjoyment he could get from this. He did  _ want _ Wade, even if this wasn’t the way he’d imagined them being together. He wanted to be able to have  _ some _ good memories of their first time together… But another part of him was disturbed that he was even capable of feeling pleasure in this situation. It was all such a mess. When he came back to himself, Wade would be sick about what he’d done. Physical intimacy with him when he was out of his mind like this was at  _ best _ dubiously consensual. And then there was Peter. He’d agreed to this, but under coercive circumstances. And while he wanted Wade, he certainly didn’t want to be treated this way. 

Who was taking advantage of whom?

And what did that say about Peter that despite all that, he could still gasp in pleasure when Deadpool doubled his pace?

A particularly deep thrust felt like a battering ram against Peter’s prostate and his hands flew up to Deadpool’s shoulders, fingers gripping the leather of his suit. Wade grunted with effort and hit the same spot again. And again. It was too much, all of it too much. This was  _ nothing _ like the cautious explorations Peter had done with his prostate. The gentle buzz of a massager had felt good, but it had never made his cock trickle slick precome like this. It hadn’t felt like he was going to burst, like he was going to be shoved mercilessly into an orgasm that he wasn’t ready for.

He stopped stroking himself and just gripped the base of his cock, a low moan escaping his throat.

“Shhhh,” Deadpool crooned. “So close.” His hand came up to Peter’s throat, pinning him to the bed and stifling his breathing. Those maddening thrusts sped up. It was overwhelming. The lack of oxygen, the threat of Wade’s heavy hand on his throat, the relentless pressure inside of him… Peter’s thoughts scattered, and he wondered vaguely if he was going to come even without touching his cock.

Suddenly, Deadpool groaned low and his hips jackhammered into Peter as he came.

He collapsed right on top of Peter, unconcerned of his weight. Peter was relieved that he didn’t pull out right away, but without the constant thrusts against his prostate, the threat of orgasm subsided, leaving him unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed that the ordeal was over. He felt… jittery, like his insides were suddenly too big for his skin to be stretched over. And the way the leather of Deadpool’s suit was pressed against his erection wasn’t helping the situation.

As the seconds ticked by and the thick length inside of him began to slowly deflate, Peter took stock of the situation.

Overall, he didn’t feel damaged. He’d be sore, definitely, but no worse than a night of fighting crime had left him many a time. And while none of it had been ideal, it hadn’t been a  _ terrible _ experience. If they’d been together longer, and weren’t trapped in some weird demonic dimension, and Peter would’ve gotten to come, all of that might’ve been pretty fantastic. Yeah, Peter liked the idea of slow, sensual intimacy, but the wildness of Wade was part of his appeal. If Deadpool had any desire to see Peter again when all this was done, then a repeat performance wasn’t something he’d be opposed to.

With watermelon lube.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more thing: I'll be updating this story twice a day until I catch up (since it's supposed to be a prompt a day and I started late) and then switching to one a day the rest of the month. Thanks for reading!


	6. Not just for girls

_ Not just for girls _

  
  


Deadpool laid on him for so long that Peter thought the man might’ve fallen asleep. Eventually, though, he jerked up like he’d forgotten the time. Peter scrunched his nose at the sensation when Wade’s cock pulled out of him. He wasn’t sure what was more unpleasant, the warmth trickling out of him, or the sticky residue on his belly.

With Deadpool sitting up on his knees studying him, Peter felt like an insect under a microscope. He had no idea how Wade would handle the situation now that they were finished. Would he come totally unhinged again, trying to kill him? Would he lose interest and wander off?

One of Wade’s hands reached up, hesitantly, and stopped just short of touching Peter’s cheek. The air between them felt thick. Then Wade’s hand trailed down Peter’s sternum to his belly, and he laughed.

“My my, I guess we proved that getting wet’s  **not just for girls.** ”

Peter was again thankful that his mask hid his flush. He tried to bat Deadpool’s hand away, but his wrists were caught in a vice grip and pinned above his head while Deadpool ran the fingers of his other hand through the mess. He brought them up, beneath the loose bottom of his mask, and  _ tasted _ them. Peter’s cock twitched. It shouldn’t have been arousing. But when he moaned like he was savoring it, Peter couldn’t deny that he was reacting to the vulgar display. Wade dropped his fingers down again, gathering more. This time, he brought them up, hooked the bottom of Peter’s mask under his pinky and rucked it up to his nose, and put them, somewhat forcefully, on Peter’s own tongue.

It was salty, vaguely bitter, and slick. Almost against his will, Peter sucked those thick fingers. Another pulse of arousal went through his cock. If he looked down, he was pretty sure it would be a vivid shade of red, the way it only got when he edged himself too long. He hoped Wade wouldn’t notice.

But  _ of course _ Wade noticed. He pushed his fingers far enough back for Peter to just barely start to gag on them, then withdrew them and sat back on his heels. “Aw, did my little imposter not get to come?” He put his hands on either side of his face in an expression of mock surprise. “I guess tormenting ol’ Wade isn’t as much fun as you thought it’d be, huh.”

“I enjoyed myself plenty. And it didn’t seem like torture for you from this angle.”

“Ooh, feisty. Daddy likey. But, being a demon and all, you  _ know _ there are better ways to torture someone than physical pain. Emotional torment is  _ so _ much more effective! Just think of how devastating it’s going to be for me when you change back now.” He put on a horrified falsetto.  _ “Not just once, but twice this happened to me? I don’t want to live like this anymore. Let me just go off and put a bullet in my brain.” _ His voice dropped back to normal range, and he muttered, “oh guess what, that doesn’t fix it. Because I can’t die to escape it. Boom. Unending torture. Congratulations.”

Peter felt like he’d been hit in the gut. He wasn’t a violent person, despite the whole superhero thing, but he wanted desperately to find whoever had hurt Wade so badly and do a multitude of unspeakable things to them. He reached out tentatively, touching Wade’s chest right above his heart. “Wade…”

“Change back.”

Peter shook his head.

“Change  _ back,” _ Wade demanded.

“I can’t! I’m me!”

Deadpool snarled in rage and shoved Peter hard enough that he flew backwards off the bed. When he looked up, Wade was storming away, screaming obscenities.

Peter took his time cleaning himself up as best he could - and was relieved to find no blood in the liquid still trickling out of him - and then redressed. He followed the sound of Wade’s tyrade, stopping on the balcony above where Wade was pacing.

“Wade?”

_ “Fuck off, cunt face!” _

If that wasn’t enough to make him back off, the katana thunking into the wall beside his head was enough to change Peter’s mind about pressing the situation. He decided they could both use some space.


	7. You do me and I'll do you

_ you do me I’ll do you _

  
  
  


Peter was exploring the castle when the back of his neck prickled. It wasn’t his spidey-sense, but it was similar. A frisson of electricity just under his skin. He turned and came face to face with Deadpool.

All traces of his earlier rage seemed gone, though Peter could see there was fresh blood on his suit.

Wade cocked his head and put his hands on his hips. “Huh, still here? I figured you’d be frolicking through hell by now.”

“I’m not leaving,” Peter said. “Not until you’re better.”

“Better? At what? My darts game is  _ perfect _ already, and let me tell you, no amount of practice is going to improve my bowling.”

“I mean - until you’re  _ you _ again.”

Deadpool laughed. “Last time I checked, I am still Wade W Wilson, friendly neighborhood mercenary.  _ You _ are the one who isn’t yourself.”

“I’m me, alright? I’m one hundred percent P-” Peter cut off, realizing that he’d been about to give his full name, which he’d never told Wade before. Maybe they were past that at this point, but Peter didn’t think he was ready to blurt it out like that. “I’m me. And you’re still you, but you’re not  _ yourself, _ Wade. You’re…”

_ “Crazy?” _ he suggested.

Peter waved the word away. “Unwell,” he corrected.

“I could be wrong here, but I’m pretty sure I haven’t been  _ well _ since cancer made me it’s bitch. And let’s not even  _ mention _ the amount of  _ unwell _ my brain has been since the lab fucked me up enough that I could make cancer  _ my _ bitch.”

“You’re not like this, okay?” Peter said in exasperation. “I know you, Wade. Yeah, you chatter to yourself sometimes, and maybe you’re a little more eager to incite violence than the average Joe off the street, but you don’t go around screaming at people. You don’t hurt them. You don’t even hurt yourself any more. I asked you to stop, and you did. Do you remember that?”

“Spidey asked me that, yeah, but he’s not he~re,” Wade singsonged. “And it doesn’t matter, because there isn’t a single universe in which he actually wants to  _ be _ with me, so hey, how I find my stress relief is my own business.”

“What do you even mean?”

“I  _ looked. _ Someone offered to let me take a peek, just to see if I could get some tips on how to tap dat ass,” Wade made a spanking motion, “till he agrees to make an honest woman outta me, and I looked through them  _ all.” _

There was something haunted in the wide whites of the mask’s eyes. Peter was beginning to understand how Wade had ended up here, unhinged. Messing with alternate universes was never a good idea. He had no idea what Wade had seen, but it couldn’t have been pretty.

“We’re not together in  _ any _ of them?”

“No _ pe,” _ Wade smacked the  _ p _ with casual flair, though there was a darkness beneath the tone. “In one, he’s a full blown hero, kissing women in the rain, saving babies. Doesn’t even know I exist. In one, he works with these four other superheroes and I’m still a piece of shit killer so he’s trying to land my ass in jail. In another,” he started laughing, the sound brittle, “he’s this button down exec in the day, and,” he laughter continued, growing manic, “I shoot him in the fucking face.  _ Twice!” _ The cackling hitched into what sounded like a sob. “Do you have any idea how many universes he’s dead in?”

Peter inhaled sharply. He didn’t want to think about being dead. He didn’t want to think about Wade killing him. And he didn’t want to think about Wade seeing all those eventualities over and over. He was beginning to get a picture of how much Wade actually  _ cared _ about him, and seeing someone you love, in any form, like that, would be enough to drive anyone crazy. “Wade…” He reached out, laying a hand on Wade’s shoulder gently.

Suddenly, Wade looked up, all the sorrow wiped away. “You know what, fuck it! Sure, you’re a demon here to torture me, who cares? It’s gonna hurt later either way. Let’s play, baby! Might as well enjoy the ride.” He pulled Peter to him, cupping his ass with splayed hands and lifting until he could press their pelvises together. “ **You do me I’ll do you.** How ‘bout it, sweet cheeks?”

“I’m  _ me, _ Wade,” Peter reminded him. He thought he was going to get whiplash from Wade’s kolidescoping moods.

“Su~re you are. And I’m Ryan Renalds under this mask. We can both pretend.”

“I don’t want to pretend you’re anyone else. I want you to be  _ you. _ Wade W Wilson, the smartass who's been flirting with me for the last year.”

“Nu-uh.” Deadpool removed one of his hands from Peter’s ass long enough to wag his finger. “We both know that Spidey-baby doesn’t want me in the bumping uglies - and in my case I do mean  _ ugly - _ way. So if you’re trying to stay in character, better put a bit more resistance in your act.”

“For fuck’s sake, Wade, can’t a man change his mind?”

“Ah ah, baby boy doesn’t say such naughty words, either.”

Peter rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might get stuck that way. “I  _ do too _ curse! Just because I don’t drop F bombs every other word-”

“There now,  _ now _ you sound more like him. Keep lecturing me, it’s getting me hot.” He pressed his erection against Peter lewdly.

“Wade-”

“Just like that,” Wade panted, still grinding against him. “You’ve even got the tone of his exasperation down pat.”

“Wade-”

Deadpool slipped his hands down the waist of Peter’s suit, cupping his ass and parting the cheeks. Peter stifled a yelp, suddenly realizing that Wade was serious about having sex again. He was  _ not  _ ready for that.

“Stop!”

Wade paused. He lifted his head again so he could look at Peter, but his expression was so unnaturally blank that Peter had no idea what he was thinking.

“Just- wait, okay? I can’t- I can’t have sex again yet. After what we just did, I’m… sore. I heal fairly fast, but not  _ that _ fast. You said you weren’t going to hurt me, and if you put  _ that,” _ he pointed down at Wade’s impressive erection,  _ “there  _ right now, then it’s going to hurt me.”

“I said I’d  _ try _ not to  _ try _ to hurt you,” Deadpool growled.

“And I appreciate that,” Peter said gently. He could see Deadpool struggling, and could practically  _ hear _ the voices in his head arguing with him. He hurried to offer an alternative before he could see which of the disembodied voices would win. “Isn’t there… anything else you want to do to me? Or for me to do to you?”

A slow smile stretched Wade’s face beneath the mask. “Oh,” he practically purred, “are you offering your services, imposta-Spidey?”

“I’m the real me, and… yes.” Peter swallowed thickly. He didn’t know what, exactly, he was offering, but pretty much anything was a good alternative considering how sore his ass still was.

“Well now, I can’t say I haven’t fantasized about those pretty lips wrapped around me.”

Peter swallowed again. “Oh?”

“Only a time or two -  _ hundred.” _

“I’m… flattered?”

Deadpool giggled. “I’m glad  _ someone _ is, since the real one wouldn’t be. But hey, if you’re offering…”

“I am. Offering, I mean.” Peter cleared his throat, already wondering what Wade tasted like. What he’d feel like on Peter’s tongue. How rough he would be… And on that note, he laid a hand on Wade’s chest. “I  _ am _ offering,” he said sincerely. “You need to remember that, for later. I  _ want _ to do this. You’re not making me. If I want you to stop, I could break away. We both know I’m strong enough. So you’re going to remember that, whatever happens next, I’m allowing it because I want you to.”

When he came back to himself - because Peter refused to accept that there was any possibility that he wouldn’t - Wade was going to be messed up over this. If he remembered everything they did together, he was going to hate himself for it. Peter needed him to know, before they did anything else, that it was  _ okay. _

Wade cocked his head for a minute, obviously having another conversation that Peter wasn’t a part of. After a moment, both his hands landed heavily on Peter’s shoulders, guiding him firmly down. Peter went, willingly. He glanced up once he was on his knees, wishing he could see more of Wade’s face than just a shadow of his chin beneath the untucked mask. “Remember, I need to breathe.”

Deadpool grunted, and Peter was forced to take that as acknowledgement. He waited while Wade unbuckled his utility belt, tossing it negligently behind him, and then opened his pants.

Peter was completely unsurprised to find him commando.

The thick length sprang out at him, just as intimidating as it had been the first time Peter had seen it. Up close, he noticed that the skin was scarred, the way the rest of Wade’s skin was scarred, but here it was more supple. Peter could see Wade’s pulse beating in the thick vein along the underside. Hesitantly, he brought his hand up and grasped it. It jerked under his touch. 

With his free hand, Peter lifted his mask up to his nose. Then, after taking a steadying breath, he leaned forward and gave the head a tentative lick.

It tasted warm, and salty, and almost… spicy? That wasn’t exactly the right word, but it certainly wasn’t  _ bad, _ which Peter had been honestly expecting, considering where it had been not that long ago. Then again, the rooms rearranged themselves, and lube apparently poofed into existence, so maybe dicks were magically self cleaning here. Stranger things had happened.

Emboldened, Peter took the entire head between his lips and ran his tongue around the crown. Wade groaned, and Peter felt a thrill of satisfaction. He’d done this once before, not long after he’d realized that he swung both ways, and while it had been fun and exciting, it hadn’t felt like this. Like he was  _ powerful, _ making Deadpool moan in pleasure.

_ “Fuuuuck, _ that’s good,” Wade growled. “That’s it, baby. Deeper now.”

Peter sucked it deeper until it bumped the back of his tongue. He didn’t have a bad gag reflex, but he didn’t want to push things too far. He brought both hands up to make up for the length he couldn’t reach, stroking in time with his sucks.

“Not wet enough,” Wade grunted. That was Peter’s only warning before big hands were on the back of his head and  _ pushing. _ He sputtered, unprepared, but the pressure didn’t let up. It kept forcing him down, making him take Wade’s cock deeper, past the back of his tongue, through the opening of his throat, down down  _ down. _ Peter almost shoved him away in his panic. He gagged, choked, fought to breathe through his nose. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t get his muscles to unclench enough to let any air pass while Deadpool was fucking his throat so roughly. All he could do was drool and choke and  _ take it. _ His hands went to Wade’s thighs, ready to push him back. His head started to swim.

And then Wade pulled out until only the tip of his cock was on Peter’s tongue. “There. Now suck,” he instructed. Peter sealed his lips around the head and sucked gratefully. The rest of Wade’s length was dripping with slick saliva now, and Peter worked it over him as best he could. “Look up at me while you do that,” Deadpool ordered. Peter lifted his face, keeping his mouth moving. “Fuck fuck  _ fuck.” _ Deadpool began to thrust forward with Peter’s sucking, but not so deeply that he couldn’t get air this time. Every few thrusts, Peter would choke, his throat spasming around the very tip of Wade’s cock, and he would moan. “I’m gonna come all over your face, baby. Want to mark up your pretty mask then lick it clean and feed you my come with my tongue.”

Peter’s cock was almost instantly hard, and he didn’t even have time to wonder how sick it made him that he  _ wanted _ that, because suddenly Wade had gripped himself and was coming. The first shot landed on Peter’s waiting tongue, and he aimed the next three at Peter’s upturned face.  _ Well, this mask is ruined, _ Peter thought vaguely.

He had just started to wonder if Wade would follow through with his plan when suddenly he zipped himself up and stalked away, leaving Peter on his knees and covered in come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone unfamiliar with the comics, the incident Wade refers to about shooting Peter in the face twice does actually happen. He's trying to only kill bad guys, and gets incorrect Intel on Peter Parker (not realizing he is also Spiderman). He shoots Peter in the face, then has his wife, Shiklah (queen of the undead) check to make sure he is in hell (and was actually a bad guy). When she tells him that Peter isnt in hell, Wade has her bring him back, only to shoot him in the face again - to reboot the system, as he says (ah, Deadpool logic). Anyway, they do sort out the situation and save Peter, but seeing that would have still been incredibly traumatic to this Wade.


	8. Keep it down, do you want someone to hear?

_ keep it down, do you want someone to hear? _

  
  


What Peter really needed was a drink. Alcohol would be nice, yeah, but just plain water would work at this point. Wade coming all over him had been hot as hell, but now, his mouth was all sticky and there was a vaguely bitter taste on his tongue that wouldn’t go away. So yeah, maybe he was only a  _ swallow _ guy when there was a drink to be had afterward.

It occurred to him that he had no idea if there was any food in this place. That… was going to be a problem. Wade obviously wasn’t just going to poof all better. His mind was seriously fractured, and with good reason. With all the other trauma he’d been through, and then this multiverse shit on top of it, it was a miracle Wade was as coherent as he was. Peter wanted to find the demon who’d showed him all of that and make it regret ever being spawned. Or better yet, he wanted to get Strange to come up with some fool-proof arrangement and let  _ Wade _ at the demon. It would be poetic justice, really. Wade deserved some sort of vengeance for all this.

But first, Peter had to  _ fix _ him.

With a sigh, he went in search of the erstwhile anti-hero. If nothing else, he needed to find out if there was anything to drink in this place.

***

“Well yeah, like I never thought of  _ that.” _

Wade was lounging in what appeared to have been a library at one point. Shelves had fallen - or been ripped - down, and ruined books littered the floor. The settee that Wade was sprawled on had certainly seen better days. Beside it was a stack of books that, from the little Peter could see from his position near the door, were extremely pornographic.

He was talking to himself again, and Peter desperately wished he could hear what the voices in his head were saying. Maybe he could understand how to help better if he knew exactly what else was going on in there.

“Wouldn’t it be nice, though?” There was a dreamy quality to Wade’s voice that clued Peter into the topic of discussion, at least. He usually only got that way when he was talking about Spiderman. “And  _ fuck, _ if those are what they really look like, then they’re…” He trailed off, humming to himself.

Suddenly he sat up and clapped a hand to his mouth. “ **Keep it down, do you want someone to hear!?** ” There was a pause, and then his hand fell away. “Oh, right. I mean, unless Demon-Spidey wants to eavesdrop.” Another pause, then Deadpool’s head turned unerringly in Peter’s direction. “Oh he is, isn’t he?”

Embarrassed at being caught, Peter stepped into the room. “I, uh, I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” He put his hands under his chin innocently. Peter just shook his head. Technically, he  _ had _ been eavesdropping, but that was beside the point.

“I just wanted to come ask you a question.”

Deadpool waved his hand in a ‘go on’ gesture.

“Is there, maybe, anything to drink here?” Peter noticed the lecherous look Wade got and quickly clarified. “Like, water? Or Dr Pepper?”

“Aw, did the demon forget to pack his lunch?”

“I’m not a demon!”

“Sure you’re not. And I’m a playboy bunny. Can’t you see my fluffy tail?” He flipped to his knees on the settee and shook his ass as though there was a rabbit tail on it.

“Damnit Wade, I’m being serious! It looks like we’re going to be here a while, and this suit doesn’t exactly have pockets for snacks.” He patted the clean lines of his suit dramatically. “Besides, even though technically you can’t die from not eating, it doesn’t mean I want you to starve either.”

“How considerate. It’s almost like you can’t do the same tricks I can,” he mocked. He made jazz hands at the empty space next to him, and suddenly a bottle of water popped into existence. He tossed it at Peter, who was gaping at him in shock. His reflexes kicked in automatically, and he snatched the bottle out of the air. It was even  _ cold. _ Peter opened it and drank thirstily. “Huh,” Deadpool said curiously. “Maybe you  _ aren’t  _ the fucker who threw me in here.”

“Of course I’m not,” Peter said, relieved almost as much by the admission as he’d been by the cold, clear water.

Wade laughed. “Wow, you’ve gotta be like, the lowest demon on the whole damn totem pole to get stuck with ‘fuck the beast’ duty!” Peter scoffed, but Wade was too busy laughing at him to notice.

“Once again,  _ not a demon,” _ Peter huffed, crossing the room to drop down on the settee next to him. “And if you must know, I didn’t get stuck with this, I volunteered.”

“Oh really?” Wade squinted at him. “Has Shiklah been telling stories?” Peter had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and Deadpool went on before he could ask for clarification. “Oh, that’s not this universe, is it? Bet she’s with Dracula now anyway.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about. No one told me anything except the demon who said he had you trapped here, and none of the Avengers were going to jump to handle the situation, so I volunteered. Pretty suddenly, actually. Damnit, Tony’s probably furious with me.” He tugged on his ear, already imagining the verbal lashing the over-protective Iron Man was going to give him when he got home.

“Well no surprise there,” Wade deadpanned. “Pretty sure not a single one of them cares if I live or die. Or get stuck in my own private hell for all eternity.”

“That’s not true! They just- they just don’t know you like I do. They don’t understand you.”

“Oh and you do? Though, I suppose you’ve done enough spying to get the general picture, haven’t you? You certainly know enough about me and Spidey. Well then, since you seem determined to stick around and draw out this torture, let me illuminate you as to our current situation.” He splayed his hands in the air like he was doing a magic trick. “Demon-Spidey, welcome to Deadpool hell! I’m Deadpool, and I’ll be your tour guide on this shit show. Here in this crappy little pocket universe, you’ll find that there are lots of amenities, like magic room service,” he snapped his fingers and a burrito appeared in his hand, “and rooms that rearrange themselves to match my mental state.”

Peter grimaced as he looked around at the chaos and destruction of the library.

“Yeah,” Deadpool said. “Not pretty. But hey, it’s got all the things a mutant could ask for! Except, for example,  _ a way the fuck out. _ Or the ability to see  _ any _ of the Spidermans in any universe. Or any way to get the homecidal suicidal genocidal every-fucking-thing-cidal voices in my head to  _ shut the fuck up.” _ He grinned. “So, you know. Practically the Four Seasons.”

_ Oh, Wade, _ Peter thought. He was more determined than ever to fix this.

“But there  _ is _ a way out.”

Deadpool’s eyes snapped to Peter’s at the words.

“The demon that brought me here… I made a deal with him. If I win, we  _ both _ get to go home.”

“Let’s say, for one tiny moment, that I believe that. What happens if you lose?”

Peter swallowed. “We both stay here. Forever.”

“And what could possibly entice a demon to make such a stupid deal?”

“Not. A. Demon,” Peter said through clenched teeth.

“Uh huh. Sure. Fine, let’s continue the charade a little longer. How are you supposed to win this deal?”

“I, uh… fix you.”

Deadpool laughed.

“Shut up, I just mean - get you back to yourself. The way you were before you looked into the other universes.  _ My _ Deadpool.”

The laughter grew until Wade was dramatically wiping his eyes. Eventually he trailed off into chuckles.  _ “Your _ Deadpool. Oh, that’s a good one, kid. Nice try, really. You’re getting more creative as we go on. Funnier, too.”

“I’m  _ serious!” _ Peter was  _ so _ done with this shit of Wade not believing who he was. He could be so damn  _ stubborn _ at the least opportune moments.

“Fine,” Deadpool said, suddenly invading Peter’s space on the settee until he was forced onto his back, with Deadpool caging him in. “Just how were you planning to… fix me. Tell me your grand plan, oh copycat-Websy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiklah is a succubus Queen of the Undead who was DPs wife in some of the comics. After they separated, she did, indeed, get together with Dracula.


	9. Inspired by a song

_ inspired by a song _

  
  


“I, uh-” Peter’s voice faltered, unsure what to say. He was way too embarrassed to admit that he’d originally thought he could swoop in and fix it all with a kiss. And ‘fuck it all better’ didn’t really sound like much of a step up. Under the direct scrutiny of Deadpool’s hyper-expressive mask, all of Peter’s plans seemed… foolish.

Still, they were all he had.

“Well, I thought I could - talk to you. And make you realize that I’m really me. And maybe if I could  _ show _ you, how much I actually care, that I really do want you, you might…”

_ “Show _ me you care, huh?” Deadpool lowered himself until their hips were pressed together. “Well now, that sounds like some good clean filthy fun.”

“I had something more-” Peter’s voice hitched as Wade began to roll his hips sinfully, “-romantic, in mind.”

“Romance? How about something **inspired by a song,** then?” He snapped his fingers and a 90s style boombox appeared next to them. Another snap, and _Nine Inch Nails_ started playing.

_ You let me violate you _

_ You let me desecrate you _

_ You let me penetrate you _

_ You let me complicate you _

Peter moaned as Wade slid one gloved hand up under his suit, trailing his fingers along Peter’s skin sinfully. He stopped at one nipple to pinch it, making Peter arch up to the touch.

_ Help me _

_ I broke apart my insides _

_ Help me _

_ I've got no soul to sell _

_ Help me _

_ The only thing that works for me _

_ Help me get away from myself _

Peter had time to think that perhaps this song was just a little too on the nose, before Wade put his other hand down Peter’s pants, and he lost his ability to think altogether. The feel of Wade’s hand, the warmth and texture of the glove, the rough insistence of his touch, was more than Peter could handle. His cock was painfully hard and he was rocking up to deepen the contact.

_ I want to fuck you like an animal _

_ I want to feel you from the inside _

_ I want to fuck you like an animal _

_ My whole existence is flawed _

_ You get me closer to god _

Before Peter had realized what was happening, Wade had the bottom of the Spiderman suit down around his ankles and was pushing his knees up to his ears. Peter didn’t want him to stop, not when it was feeling so good, and it seemed like this was almost  _ his _ Wade, but he was also incredibly aware of how sore he still was. He stripped the pants the rest of the way off and draped his legs around Wade’s waist, drawing him close.

“Slowly,” he whispered. “You’re gonna have to be careful with me, Wade. Can you do that?”

“For you, baby boy, anything,” Wade murmured back. Peter melted at the words, but Wade stiffened, as though he hadn’t realized what he’d said. Maybe he’d been about to take it back, but Peter silenced him by reaching his hands between them and unzipping Wade’s pants. His cock was already just as hard as Peter’s, the tip slick with precome. Peter stroked it a few times, then, frustrated at the barrier between them, he quickly used his teeth to strip his gloves off. Once he got his bare hands on Deadpool’s erection, he moaned. Wade hissed  _ “fuuuuuck.” _

“Can you magic us up some lube?” Peter asked breathlessly. Wade nodded against his neck. A moment later, lube coated leather was pressing against Peter’s ass. The cold of it made him jolt, but then Wade was rubbing slow circles, warming the liquid, pressing slowly against Peter’s sore skin. It took a full minute - and two fingers later - for Peter to realize he smelled strawberry.

Not watermelon yet, but it was something. He smiled and wrapped his arms around Wade’s broad shoulders, relaxing further under his touch. When Wade finally withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the tip of his cock, Peter was well and truly prepped. He encouraged Wade forward, lifting his hips to meet the slow, steady thrust. It still burned, yes, the skin not having quite recovered from it’s previous rough treatment, but the pleasure far outweighed the sting.

They both groaned when Wade was fully seated inside him. It felt so much like it had that first time, but so,  _ so _ different. Their bodies were pressed together, and Wade’s abdomen was rubbing against Peter’s cock with every thrust. He wished, more than anything, that it was Wade’s skin against him instead of the leather of his suit, but he didn’t dare ask. Wade had been self-conscious of his scars even when he’d been fully in his right mind. Peter had no idea how he would react to them being exposed now. Instead, he dropped his hands to Wade’s waist and slipped them under the waist of his pants until he could cup Wade’s ass.

He felt thick muscle bunching under his hands, flexing with each powerful thrust. And there was texture there, too, scars that seemed thicker than anything Peter had glimpsed on Wade before. But they couldn’t distract Peter from the feel of hot skin, the slow, sinuous roll of those hips, the slam of Wade’s cock against Peter’s prostate.

_ This _ is what Peter had dreamed about. What he’d imagined their first time would be like. This was what he’d closed his eyes and fantasized about when he stroked himself off late at night. And it was so much  _ better _ than any fantasy, because Wade was really  _ here, _ driving into him, moving in time to the beat of the music.

Long before he expected it, Peter felt himself tensing as pleasure coiled tight around the base of his spine, ready to release.

“W-Wade- I’m- I’m-”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Wade growled. “Come on my cock, baby.” He slammed forward once, twice, three times more, and then Peter shouted and came, cock twitching and spurting between them. And Wade didn’t  _ stop _ thrusting. He did it again, and again, overstimulating Peter, drawing out the pleasure until he wasn’t sure he could stand it any more and he heard himself mewling in a way that he would have been mortified by, except that Wade seemed to take some savage delight in it and thrust  _ harder. _ And then his hips slammed forward again, and he came as well.

_ “Fuck,” _ he exhaled harshly, collapsing atop Peter, uncaring of the mess.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed.

When Wade nuzzled into Peter’s neck, he didn’t object. The weight of Wade felt solid and real, reminding Peter that he was  _ there. _ And this seemed like a huge step forward for them. He didn’t want it to end.


	10. I dont think I was supposed to know that

_ I don’t think I was supposed to see/know that _

  
  
  


After a while, Wade shifted his bulk to the side, but stayed pressed close to Peter. He pulled Peter’s ungloved hand up and studied it.

“I wonder if this is what his hands really look like.”

“Well, since I’m really me, I’d say yes.” Peter didn’t have the energy to argue, so his words came out amused and affectionate. He laced their fingers together.

“Uh huh.” Wade looked at their joined hands. “Still on with that, are we?”

“Yep.” Peter sighed and snuggled deeper into Wade’s arms.

“I suppose,” Wade said mildly, “that’s one way to make it worse. Get me to actually believe that it might really be him before you show me who you really are. Lower my defences before you really hit me where it hurts.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Wade. I never have been. Even- even before, when we were working together, if I hurt you by not taking your flirting seriously, then I’m sorry. I thought it was just a game to you. Or a passing infatuation, at best. I never meant for you to feel unwanted. Especially when it was the exact opposite of how I felt. I have Deadpool sneakers, for Christ’s sake!”

Wade snickered. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Well, if that’s true and Spidey actually has Deadpool sneakers,  **I don’t think I was supposed to know that.** ” He booped Peter’s nose. “Flattering as it is, and all. You can’t go sharing Sweetcheek’s private details with me. Kind of a violation and all.”

Peter sighed. This was seriously dampening his post coital glow. “What would it take to make you believe that I’m really me? Would it help if I showed you my face?” He reached up for his mask, but Wade stopped him abruptly.

“ _ Don’t.” _ His voice was so serious that Peter froze. “He never showed me his face or gave me his real name. When, and if I ever get to know them, I want it to be from the  _ real _ him.”

“But that’s  _ me!” _

“Fifty points for persistence,” Wade awarded him flatly.

“Fine, how about this. Tell me why you’re so determined to believe that I can’t really be here. Why is that so impossible?”

“You mean aside from the thousands of other universes in which Spiderman doesn’t know I exist, barely tolerates me, and/or wouldn’t lift tail for me in a million years?”

“I don’t care what me in other universes does. I can’t control that. I mean  _ me. _ Your me.”

“For fuck’s sake, have you  _ seen _ the people he’s attracted to? Well, maybe you haven’t seen his lovers in the alternate universes, but let me tell you, they’re all  _ tens. _ Elevens, even. Like, off the charts hot.”

_ “So?” _

“So what?”

“I already said I don’t mean other universes. I mean this one. Our universe. Right now.”

“The point,” Deadpool said with a huff, “is that he’s got a type, and that type sure as shit ain’t me.”

Peter made a sound of disgust, pushing up from the settee and shoving his legs back into his pants. “Why do you even like this guy then, huh? You seem convinced that he- that  _ I _ couldn’t possibly like you because of your  _ looks. _ That’s like, the  _ least _ important thing about a person! If he really doesn’t want you just because of your scars, then he’s a selfish child who doesn’t deserve you!” Peter stalked away, wanting to punch something. And fuck, now Wade even had him referring to himself in third person. He hated that Wade could really believe that Spiderman would be so shallow. Trying to calm himself down, he turned around and walked back to Deadpool, dropping to his knees in front of him. “Putting aside the fact that you should trust that Spiderman would want to come and save you just because you’re his  _ friend, _ have I really treated you so badly that you believe I’d reject you because of your appearance?”

Peter had taken Wade’s hands in his, holding them tightly as he pleaded with his voice. Wade looked lost, uncertain.

“Don’t- don’t talk about him that way. He’s not-”

“Shallow? A massive jerk?

“He’s not!”

“Then why are you so convinced that I give a damn about the scars?”

_ “Because you haven’t seen them,” _ Deadpool snarled. “You don’t know how bad they are!”

Peter let out a long breath. He shook his head. “You’re right. I don’t. I’ve seen bits of them, when we eat together. And I’ve felt some of them, very recently. But I haven’t seen all of it. I don’t know how bad they are.”  _ Now or never, _ he thought. “You said earlier that I could  _ earn _ seeing your face. Haven’t I earned it by now? Let me see you, Wade. All of you. Let me prove to you that it doesn’t matter to me.”


	11. I can't believe I'm saying yes to this

_ I can’t believe I’m saying yes to this _

  
  


Wade’s hands were shaking. His eyes were squeezed shut. Peter couldn’t tell if he was on the verge of violence or tears. “Y-you’re not him,” he whispered.

“Then it doesn’t matter. If I’m just some demon, then it doesn’t make a difference. But if I’m  _ me, _ and I  _ am _ me, then let me prove myself to you. Let me help you believe that this is real. Because I swear to you, Wade, what’s under that mask won’t change how I feel about you. It  _ can’t.” _

“I… I-” Wade pulled his hands free from Peter’s and put them on either side of his head, squeezing as though he was trying to push out errant thoughts. He muttered to himself, growing more and more agitated, until finally he deflated like a popped balloon. “ **I can’t believe I’m saying yes to this,** ” he grumbled.

One hand dropped down limply. The other gripped the top of his hood. He gave a single tug, and then the mask slid free. He stayed like that, motionless, head down, unwilling to meet Peter’s eyes.

Peter looked, and looked hard. It was unexpected, but not in the way he might have imagined. It was unexpected because these scars weren’t the ones he’d seen bits of before. When he’d seen Wade’s chin and lips during those late night rooftop meals, they’d looked more like burn scars. Ridges and whorls of flesh stretched over his frame. These were bigger, more pronounced. It was as though a thousand tiny sections of his skin had swelled up and then hardened like that.

Peter reached out, slowly, and put his fingers under Wade’s chin. Gently, he lifted it up until they were eye to eye. Wade’s irises were completely whited out. It was impossible to tell if they’d always been like that, or if it was a change like the type of scars, but Peter found it strangely… comforting. It was familiar to have white eyes staring back at him, somehow no less expressive even without eyebrows or pupils to see where exactly he was looking.

Still moving slowly, Peter got to his knees, lifted his mask up past his nose, and then framed Wade’s face with his hands. He brought their faces close together, giving Wade time to move away, but when he didn’t, Peter kissed him.

He’d meant for the kiss to start out light, but once Peter felt Wade’s lips beneath his, he couldn’t pull back. He wrapped his arms around Wade’s neck and  _ clung _ to him, slanting their mouths so he could kiss him deeper. His tongue brushed against the ridges of Wade’s lips until they parted on a gasp. Peter took full advantage, tasting the inside of Wade’s mouth with the same thoroughness he’d explored his lips with.

Strangely, Wade’s tongue seemed unaffected by the scars that covered the rest of his body. It was smooth and hot as it tentatively brushed against Peter’s. With a low moan, Wade came alive. He held Peter tightly, kissing him back.

It seemed endless, and at the same time it was all too soon before they were pulling away, panting for breath. Wade’s eyes were wide, his chest rising and falling sharply.

_ “Woah,” _ he whispered. Then his features twisted a little, and he said in an oddly sing-song voice, “Wade is going nighty-night,” and collapsed.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapters, but that's just the way these prompts panned out. Now that we are caught up to the current date, chapters will come one a day for the rest of the month. Happy reading!


	12. Public restroom

_ public restroom _

  
  


Peter panicked, suddenly struggling under the boneless weight of Wade’s body. He managed to get the bulk of him pushed back on the settee, then leaned over him, looking for injury. “Wade?” There didn’t appear to be any external cause for the collapse, but Wade wasn’t breathing. Was this some sort of demonic intervention? They were finally getting somewhere, so the demon had killed him? But it was Deadpool. He couldn’t be  _ dead, _ right?

Just when Peter was starting to genuinely freak the frock out, Wade took a shuddering breath and opened his eyes.

“Huh,” he said, “not a dream after all.”

“Holy shit, you scared the  _ crap _ out of me!” Peter grabbed Wade’s shoulders and shook him a little. Wade just grinned up at him.

“You’re the one who made Wade.x stop working,” he laughed. “I think you gave me a fuckin’ anneurism, kid.”

“Well hell, were you gonna do that even if we’d kissed back in our own universe? Because let me tell you, that would  _ not _ have been fun for me.”

Wade shrugged and pushed himself up till he was sitting again, unmindful of Peter fully in his lap now. “Eh, I kinda figured if by some miracle I ever did manage to score with Spidey, it’d be some existential crisis fuck in a  **public restroom** somewhere and he wouldn’t look back once his pants were back on. Didn’t think it’d matter how I reacted after.”

Peter’s heart sank at Wade’s switch to third person talking about Spiderman again. “Well I’d be an incredibly shitty person if that was what happened.” He cupped Wade’s cheek in his hand. “You deserve better than that.”

“This  _ really _ doesn’t bother you, does it?” Wade asked, gesturing to his scarred features.

_ “No.” _

“Well I gotta say, this isn’t how I expected any of this to go.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well in my experience, torture isn’t quite this intricate. I mean, I get the whole, ‘build them up before you demolish them’ but I feel like this is taking it a bit far. Are you sure you’re doing your job right? Because for a sadistic demon who’s sole purpose is to torment me, you’re not half bad.”

Peter groaned and let his head fall forward against Wade’s chest. “Not a demon,” he muttered petulantly. He stayed there for a long while, close enough that he could hear the reassuring beat of Wade’s heart, then slid from his lap to the floor. “Think you could conjure us up some burritos? I’m starving.”

“Hocus pocus alakazik, Wade Wilson has the biggest dick!” Wade jazz handsed again, and half a dozen burritos appeared on the table beside them.

“Well you’re not wrong, but your magic words could use some work,” Peter grumbled. “Toss me one of those.”

Wade snickered and tossed him a burrito, which Peter unwrapped and took an over-large bite of.

“You know,” he said around a mouthful of food. “I think I’m actually a little offended that you find it easier to believe a  _ demon _ could accept your looks than that I could.”

Wade shrugged again. “Eh, from what I’ve seen, hell has some interesting looking characters. You could be desensitized to walking nightmares.”

“You’re not a walking nightmare,” Peter said, swallowing. He paused before taking another bite. “But… but if you don’t mind my asking - I feel like you look… different, than you did before. I mean, I’ve seen parts of your face when we’ve eaten together, and it didn’t look like this. I wouldn’t say  _ worse, _ just… different.”

Wade cocked his head, either considering the question or listening to the disembodied voices. “I, uh, I’m not sure, really. I think, you  _ might _ be right? In the other universes - I looked different, in a lot of them. Some weren’t as bad, some were way worse. Hell, in one, I’d somehow  _ reversed _ the scarring. Fuck if I know how that Deadpool did it, thought.” He stopped, looking down on the pretense of studying his burrito. “I - I don’t know which version is supposed to be  _ me, _ actually. I don’t remember.” 

Peter laid his hand on Wade’s knee and squeezed lightly. “Well whether this is the way you looked before or not, or whether you ever change back or not, I still think you’re a sexy beast, Wade Wilson.”

Wade cracked a smile and shoved Peter’s shoulder playfully. “Hey,” he said suddenly, “wanna play Mario Kart?”


	13. How is this supposed to work again?

_ How is this supposed to work again? _

  
  
  


“ **How is this supposed to work again?** ” Wade asked, staring at Peter as though he was nuts.

Peter rolled his eyes. There was  _ no _ way this was the weirdest sex thing Wade had ever done. He patiently explained again, hanging upside down just in front of Wade. “It’s just a vertical sixty-nine. Both cocks come out, both cocks go in mouths. The main difference is that I won’t have any leverage, hanging here, so you’re gonna have to, er- thrust for both of us.” Peter could hang upside down for hours without getting a head rush, but he still pretended that his position was why his face was suddenly so red.

“Uh huh,” Wade said, sounding unconvinced.

“If you don’t want to, then we can just-” He started to turn, but Wade stopped him.

“I never said I don’t want to,” he growled, “I just want to make sure I’m clear on the mechanics. Although, I don’t remember agreeing to suck you off. I’m not sure I should be giving you any purposeful pleasure here considering the whole ‘tormenting demon’ thing.”

“Fine then,” Peter agreed easily, “don’t. I’ll just leave my erection there, in your face, not getting any attention, while I’m eagerly taking  _ yours _ all the way down my throat.”

“Well when you put it  _ that _ way…” Wade shoved Peter’s suit out of the way and took a bold lick of his suddenly exposed cock. Peter choked on his breath and had to calm himself before he could get Wade in his mouth.

Maybe mindless, acrobatic, kinky sex wasn’t the best use of their time, but Peter hadn’t been making any progress arguing his case with Wade while they played Mario Kart anyway. And honestly, the sex thing was sort of  _ working. _ Wade seemed to be changing his mind about Peter. No, he hadn’t accepted that he was himself, but going from nearly tearing Peter’s throat out to willingly sucking him off was a pretty big improvement. Sooner or later, he’d realize that this was real.

Peter’s thoughts cut off as Wade’s hands shifted. One went to Peter’s ass, hauling him closer so Wade could deepthroat him. The other landed on the back of Peter’s head, holding it in place while Wade began to thrust. And  _ fuck, _ it was erotic, suspended the way he was, completely in Wade’s power, his mind torn between just  _ taking _ it and the sinful suction Wade was providing his cock.

If he hadn’t just come a few hours before, Peter was pretty sure he would have already orgasmed again.

The noises Wade was making were the hottest things Peter had ever heard. He had no shame. He didn’t even try to stifle his moans of pleasure as he worked his tongue over Peter’s length and then flicked at the ridge. He sounded like he was loving every minute of it, and, Peter was fairly certain that’s because he  _ was. _

As tension coiled in his belly, Peter tried to pull back just long enough to warn Wade, but the hand on the back of his head was unmovable. Without much guilt, Peter gave up and let go. He came hard, spilling hotly into Wade’s eager mouth.

Peter decided, as Wade came almost immediately after, that  _ Merc with a Mouth _ definitely,  _ definitely _ didn’t just have one meaning.

  
  



	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where the story earns its violence tag. Additional notes for self harm and gore. (Seriously, don't be eating when you read this chapter.)

_ the sub/bottom gets too curious _

  
  


Once Peter felt steady enough on his feet to walk again, he headed off to explore the castle. Wade had wandered away again, muttering to himself. The fact that the voices in his head were still so active did worry Peter, but at least they didn’t seem to be inciting him to violence, so it was an improvement.

On the main floor of the castle was the grand entry, and long hallways that branched off to other rooms. Peter found a huge dining hall with a fully functional taco truck set up in the middle, an armoury with a combination of incredibly deadly weapons and a wide assortment of Nerf guns, and a sitting room that had been spray-painted with dozens of Deadpool logos.

It was strange - aside from the obvious fracturing of his mind, this dimension didn’t seem set up specifically to torment Wade. It literally  _ catered  _ to him. Why would the demon create a place that would provide him with everything he wanted? Yes, he couldn’t escape, but that didn’t seem like quite  _ enough. _

Was it possible that the demon  _ hadn’t _ created this place? That somehow  _ Wade _ had created it? Or it had been created for him by someone less malevolent? Peter didn’t know who, or how, but that seemed far more likely than a demon being so accommodating.

But, if the demon didn’t put Wade here, then why brag about it? Why tell the Avengers about it? It made no sense at all, unless - unless… 

Unless  _ Wade _ wasn’t the demon’s actual target.

A knot formed in Peter’s stomach as a horrible suspicion took hold. What if this had been set up, not to torture Wade, but as a means of getting at  _ Peter? _

Before Peter could consider the terrible idea, the castle began to change. The huge stained-glass windows, which had started to allow in a little light for the first time, suddenly darkened. The images on them twisted, now showing scenes of unspeakable horror. The stones on the floor began to blacken and crumble beneath Peter’s feet. Venomous spiders skittered along the walls.

_ Wade. _

The castle was a reflection of him. If it was suddenly becoming this dark, then something had to be happening with Wade.

He knew that he shouldn’t go looking. Wade was unpredictable at the moment, and anything could set him off. When he was this unhinged, Peter could make matters worse. He would put himself and Wade in danger by trying to interfere. But he couldn’t help himself.

Cautiously, Peter began to search for Wade.

High up in the west wing of the castle, Peter finally found him. At the end of a long hall, he heard hysterical cackling broken by sobs and screams. Something in him warned him not to go any further, but he ignored the instinct. Instead, he crept forward. Silently, he pushed open the door.

Blood - there was blood everywhere. It was running in rivulets on the floor, sprayed across the walls, and covering Wade.  _ Wade - _ he was sitting on the floor, naked, waving his katana as he talked and screamed at himself. There was a pile of…  _ something _ beside him. As Peter watched, Wade brought the blade to his scarred skin, and began to hack it off. The deadly sharp katana was slicing off his flesh in long strips. Wade screamed, giggled, then flicked the strip of skin onto the pile.

Peter fought the need to vomit. He didn’t want to step forward, didn’t want anything to do with this insane display of gore, but he couldn’t  _ not. _ In three strides he was across the room, ripping the katana from Wade’s blood-slick hands and throwing it away.

“Stop!” His voice cracked, caught somewhere between a yell and a sob, and Peter didn’t care. He wanted to take each strip of skin and piece Wade back together like some horrifying jigsaw puzzle. “What are you  _ doing?” _

Wade just looked at him, as though he didn’t think he was really there.

“What  _ is _ this?” Peter demanded.  _ “Why, _ Wade?”

A little giggle slipped out of Wade, then another. Soon he was crying with them, rocking back and forth. “I remember,” he said, voice high pitched and unnaturally cheerful. “I remember  _ me. _ The me I was before this. And  _ this,” _ he gestured to the pile of skin, “isn’t mine. It isn’t mine, and I  _ don’t want it any more!” _ He was screaming the words by the end of the sentence, fury blazing in his white eyes. He scrambled on the floor, obviously headed for the katana, but Peter intercepted him.

He tackled Wade to the ground and pinned him there, using every ounce of his super-strength. Wade thrashed, he cursed, he screamed. He kicked at Peter. At one point he even tried to bite him. Peter refused to let himself be dislodged. He kept Wade pinned down, forcing him to stay still as his skin healed.

Almost all the scars came back the exact same way - except the spots where Peter was touching him. Those came back in the swirling whorls and ridges that Peter had seen under the bottom of Wade’s mask back in their universe.

Eventually, Wade stopped trying to escape. He went still beneath Peter and just stared up at him. For a moment, it almost looked as though there was color to his eyes, a pale blue iris under the white, but then he blinked, and Peter couldn’t be sure it hadn’t just been a trick of the light.


	15. Chapter 15

_ dad, I can explain _

  
  
  


“So,” Wade said conversationally after almost half an hour had passed. “I guess this would be a really shitty time for anyone to walk in.” He put on a falsetto.  _ “ _ **_Dad, I can explain_ ** _!” _

Peter tried not to laugh. He really did. It was morbid. But the image Wade put in his head, of someone walking in to see a room covered in blood like something out of a B movie, Wade naked on the floor, and Peter pinning him down, was just too much. He snorted a laugh. “Thankfully for you, my dad is dead.”

“Iron-dad, then,” Wade suggested with a smirk. “Which one of us do you think he’d punish more?”

“Oh good lord.” Peter shuddered and made a face. “If that was an innuendo, and that’s something you’re into, then you’d better shelf that idea  _ right now, _ because Mr Stark is great and all, but  _ nooooooooo.” _

Wade laughed. “Well usually I’m hot to trot with just about anything or anyone, but in your case, I don’t find myself inclined to share.” He leaned up and kissed Peter right over the mask. When he pulled back, he stared up at Peter again, dazed. “It’s almost like it really could be you.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Peter said softly. “It’s me, Wade.” He let go of Wade’s arms in order to frame his face. He  _ needed _ Wade to believe it. “Please… let me show you.”

There was a long, tense pause, and then Wade gave a single nod of assent. Peter sat up, caught the edge of his mask, and pulled it off. He tossed it away, not taking his eyes off Wade’s.

Wade stared.

His breath caught in his chest. A low sound of pain whistled out of him. “No… no… no  _ no no no nononononono-” _ As Peter watched, the thick scars on his skin became worse. They swelled up and burst into open, weeping sores. Peter jumped up, afraid to hurt him further. 

As soon as Peter’s weight was off of him, Wade fled the room, chanting  _ no _ as he ran.


	16. His bully had a crush on him the whole time

_ his bully had a crush on him the whole time _

  
  


Peter followed Wade at a careful distance. Obviously Wade hadn’t reacted well to seeing his face. What Peter couldn’t figure out was  _ why. _ He didn’t seem angry, he didn’t seem like he thought Peter was lying even. He’d seemed… horrified to see Peter. But what about his face would cause  _ that _ reaction?

When Peter made it back to the entryway, he noticed the windows were all boarded up. And the door - it was gone completely. There was no escaping the castle. Wade must have tried to get out, but couldn’t, and then-

_ Thunk  _

_ Thunk  _

_ Thunk _

Peter spotted him under the stairs, a heavy brass candlestick in his hand. He was bashing himself in the head with it. Blood was starting to stain the floor. Peter launched himself at Wade and took the candlestick out of his hand.

“God  _ damnit, _ Wade!  _ Stop hurting yourself! _ You  _ promised _ me you wouldn’t! Do you remember that? You promised me!”

Suddenly it all seemed so fucking useless. Peter couldn’t  _ fix _ Wade. He was just some broke college kid with no idea what he was doing. If not for a random spider bite, he’d be a nobody. Deadpool wouldn’t even know his name. Deadpool  _ didn’t _ know his name. This was all so messed up-

“I know,” Wade whispered.

“What?”

Wade let his head roll back against the wall, completely listless. “I  _ know. _ I know I promised you I wouldn’t hurt myself. I remember. That night I hit myself in the face with a frying pan as a joke. I thought you’d laugh, but you were so  _ pissed. _ You put your hand right here,” he touched his cheek, “and you said it wasn’t funny. That you don’t like seeing me hurt. That just because I heal doesn’t mean that I don’t feel pain. And I couldn’t believe that you… that you  _ cared _ that much. But you did. So I stopped. I stopped hurting myself, or even letting myself get recklessly hurt by others. Because you  _ cared.” _

Peter didn’t miss the fact that Wade wasn’t saying  _ he _ or  _ him. _ He was saying  _ you. _ “Then- then why now?”

“Because-” Wade shook his head, tears falling from his eyes and dripping to the open sores on his face. “Because you’re  _ you. _ It really is you. And if you’re you, then I did all those things to  _ you. _ I treated you that way, when you came to help me. I- I… fuck, I’m gonna puke.” He went to his hands and knees, breath coming in short pants as his stomach cramped and then expelled its contents.

It wasn’t a pretty sight, but Peter didn’t back away. He stayed at Wade’s side, touching him softly in spaces between the sores, trying to offer some comfort, or at least solidarity.

“It’s okay,” he was saying over and over.

Finally, Wade wiped his mouth and turned back to him. “It’s not fucking okay,” he growled. “How can you say that? This wasn’t some schoolyard bullshit and at the end the kid realizes  **his bully had a crush on him the whole time** and that makes it all okay. I tried to  _ kill _ you. I assaulted you. I hurt you. And the  _ things I said to you…” _ He clutched his head, as though he could squeeze all the terrible memories from it.

“You didn’t know who I was when you tried to kill me. And you didn’t  _ assault _ me. I told you I was willing. I set the ground rules. You followed them.” Peter could see it wasn’t helping. He tried a different tack. “Remember what I said, before I got on my knees for you? That it was  _ my _ decision. I wanted to do it, so I did. I could have stopped you at any point. I chose not to.”

“I didn’t leave you much choice.”

“For gods’ sake, Wade, I’m the one who came onto  _ you _ the last two times. Why would I have done that if I didn’t want this?”

“Because you’re trying to  _ fix _ me,” Wade spat angrily. “And I don’t fucking deserve it. Worthless piece of shit, sack of garbage-”

“Shut up!”

Peter said it so forcefully that Wade obeyed automatically. Peter forced his tone to be more gentle when he continued. “You trust me, don’t you, Wade?” Slowly, Wade nodded. “And you trust my judgement, right? More even than your own?” Another cautious nod. “Then you have to believe me when I say that you  _ are _ worth it.”

Wade stared at him, cornered in by his own logic. He believed that Peter was really himself. And he trusted Spiderman implicitly. So he  _ had _ to accept that Spiderman had come to save him, had  _ wanted _ him, and was telling the truth about Wade being worth it. His fractured mind didn’t seem capable of comprehending the enormity of that, but it was starting to sink in.

“I”m sorry,” he said raggedly. “I’m sorry for everything I did that hurt you.”

Peter wanted to brush it off. He wanted to say it was okay. But while what had happened was understandable, it  _ wasn’t _ okay. Instead, Peter said, “I forgive you.” He stood up and held out his hand. Wade took it, and Peter pulled him up. He pulled him right into a hug. Wade stilled at first, then hugged Peter back tightly.

When Peter opened his eyes, arms still around Wade, the first thing he noticed was that the open sores were shrinking. They closed up and vanished as if they had never been there. Then, the hard knots of scar tissue began to diminish. They deflated into the familiar swirling ridges. Peter pulled back so he could see Wade’s face.

As he watched, the white of Wade’s eyes grew cloudy, then the outline of an iris and pupil appeared. Wade blinked, and then his eyes were a sharp, clear blue. Peter was speechless. The scars continued to recceed. For a moment, it looked like they would vanish altogether. Peter caught a glimpse of what Wade had looked like before. The straight slope of his nose, the broad cut of his cheekbones, the dusky pink of his lips.

_ Huh, he did look a little like Ryan Renalds. _

“What?” Wade asked.

And then the scars reformed themselves, as though the face beneath them had been nothing but a momentary illusion. For Wade’s sake, Peter wished the face could have stayed. Wade would have been so much more comfortable with his appearance if he’d had his original features back. But for his own sake, Peter was glad that  _ his _ Wade was standing in front of him again.

“Hi,” he said, pulling back enough that he could hold his hand out for Wade to shake. “I’m Peter Parker. It’s nice to officially meet you.”


	17. Things that aren't sex toys used as sex toys

_ things that aren’t sex toys used as sex toys _

  
  
  


Wade put his hand in Peter’s, staring at him as though he’d grown a second head. When Peter gripped his hand, he glanced down, then back up, then immediately back down again. He jumped backwards, looking his entire body over. When he looked up, he was grinning.

“I’m back! I’m back! This is me! I’m back!” He rushed forward and picked Peter up, swinging him around like a Disney princess. They laughed together. Then, breathless, Wade pressed Peter against the wall. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. “Please say I can kiss you.”

“Kiss me,” Peter said. And Wade did.

_ This _ was what Peter had always imagined their first kiss would be like. Wade cradling the back of his head with one hand, the other splayed possessively on his lower back, pinning him against the wall with his weight and the force of the kiss. The firm, ridged texture of Wade’s lips was foreign, but somehow tantalizingly familiar. It was  _ him. _ Peter let his own hands wander down Wade’s back, over the hard planes of muscles, the down further to what could only be described as a  _ spectacular _ ass. Which made Peter suddenly remember that Wade was still naked.

Okay, so maybe not  _ exactly _ like what he’d imagined their first kiss would be. He’d thought the nudity would come later.

Wade broke away, putting just enough space between them for Peter to see him wiggle his hips shamelessly. “Whoops,” he said, without an ounce of guilt. “Forgot that lil Wade was still out and about.”

“Do you hear me complaining?” 

Wade grinned.  _ “Nope.” _

He snapped his fingers, and a bed appeared behind them. Unlike the one Wade had been using before, this one had pillows, a soft looking  _ Hello Kitty _ comforter, and not a single bodily fluid anywhere to be seen. Yet. He snapped his fingers again and an industrial sized bottle of watermelon lube appeared next to the bed.

“I know that I should be saying  _ let’s wait. _ I should want to do this right this time, in one of  _ our _ beds, after I’ve taken you on a real date - romantic candlelit dinner, a horse drawn carriage ride, spelled out  _ I want to suck your cock _ in rose petals, but…” He shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, we’re doing  _ all _ of that. I just… don’t want to wait. Not unless you want to.”

Peter grinned. “I’d go with  _ I heart dat ass _ for the rose petals, but yeah, I don’t want to wait either.”

“See, this is why I love you.” Wade pulled Peter back to the bed, letting them fall onto the soft surface. “You  _ get _ me.”

“Well that and I want your cock.”

“That’s a big bonus,” Wade conceded.

Peter wrapped his fingers around Wade’s burgeoning erection. “It sure is,” he agreed. Wade laughed and swatted his hand away.

“So, sweet thing, what’ll it be this time? Tie me up and have your way with me? How about food in bed? Whipped cream? Chocolate sauce? Chimichangas? Maybe  **things that aren’t sex toys used as sex toys** ?”

“W-what?” Peter laughed incredulously.

Wade held his hand up and a cucumber appeared in it. He raised a brow.

_ “No,” _ Peter laughed again.

Wade dropped the cucumber and raised his hand. This time an enormous, phallic shaped gourd appeared in it. He waggled both brows outrageously.

Peter half choked, then quickly webbed the gourd out of Wade’s hand and threw it away from the bed with all his strength. It hit the wall at the end of the hallway with a satisfying  _ thwack. _

“I’ll take that as a  _ no _ then.” Wade tried to sound upset, but Peter could see the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“The only things around here I want used as sex toys are these-” he kissed Wade with a suggestive thrust of his tongue, “these,” he brought Wade’s fingers up to his mouth and took a long, slow suck on two of them, “and this.” He dropped his hand down to grab Wade’s cock, which was now fully hard and twitched under the gentle touch.

“You got it, baby,” Wade said breathlessly. He took a generous helping of the lube and settled himself between Peter’s legs. One hand held Peter’s cock steady while he licked it like a particularly delicious ice cream cone, while the other started working slick fingers into Peter’s ass. After a few minutes, Wade raised his head. “Does this mean you’re opposed to  _ all _ sex toys, or-”

Peter laughed and pushed Wade’s head back down, cutting him off. Later, he would show Wade just how unopposed he was to sex toys. He might even ask Wade to help him expand his small collection. But  _ later. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to have gotten a few chapters behind at some point, so I'll try to catch those up ASAP!


	18. Everyone wants to touch their butt

_ everyone wants to touch their butt  _

  
  
  


It was strange how sex with Wade was so different than sex with Deadpool had been, and yet was exactly the same. There would always be a wildness to Wade, with or without the mask. But there was a tenderness to him, too. This wasn’t  _ just _ sex for Wade. He cradled Peter’s face in his hands. He pressed reverent kisses to his forehead and eyelids. He was single-mindedly focused on Peter’s pleasure. Aaand he also flipped Peter to his hands and knees after his first orgasm and rode him like the devil.

When they came a third time - courtesy of superhuman stamina - it was face to face, sharing breath, their fingers entwined. Wade finally collapsed, spent. When Peter grunted, Wade shifted to the side, but was quick to tuck Peter against him. 

They needed to talk more. There was so much left to say… But first, Peter thought they’d both earned some sleep.

***

The first thing Peter noticed was the sunlight. It was bright. Too bright. He groaned and hid his face against the bulk beside him. The bulk shifted, then it groaned too.

_ Wade. _

Peter sat up, blinking against the early morning light. Daylight! Bright sunshine was streaming through the clear windows. They weren’t in the entryway any more. They were in a cozy bedroom, with a rocking chair and matching nightstands. With vases full of  _ flowers _ on them.

He looked down. There were two sets of bunny slippers at the foot of the bed.

Okay, so. If the castle was a reflection of Wade’s mental state, then this seemed like a pretty damn good sign. Peter smiled and let himself flop back on the bed. Wade tugged him closer and slung a possessive leg across him.

“S’too early,” he complained groggily.

“Maybe, but the fact that there  _ is _ an early seems like good news.”

Wade forced his eyes open. He blinked a few times. “Huh,” he finally said. “That’s new.”

“You know what I think it means?” Peter asked.

“What?”

“I think it means we’re close to getting home.”

Wade’s face brightened at first, then twisted. “Home,” he repeated, sounding unsure.

Peter put his hand on Wade’s face and tipped it up till they were eye to eye. “You know things aren’t just going to go back to the way they were, right?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t sound entirely sure.

“Now that I’ve had a piece of this,” Peter pressed himself against Wade, “I’m not giving it up, you know.”

“Your extended superhero family won’t approve.”

Peter shrugged. “If they don’t like it, that’s too bad.”

“And I’m gonna be a shit boyfriend, I can tell you that already.” Wade pushed up onto his elbow, his voice serious. “I’ll forget to bring home milk, and I’ll hardly ever make the bed, and I’ll want to unalive everyone who checks out your ass.”

“Well, thankfully for you, I don’t like drinking milk, I never make the bed either, and hardly anyone wants to look at my ass.”

“Now that’s just not true. I’ve seen tons of people check out Spiderman’s ass. They all want a grope. And I don’t even know how many people are itching for a piece of  _ Peter’s _ ass. I bet it’s even worse. You’re just oblivious.”

“That’s not true! No one is out there lusting over my ass.”

“It’s everyone.  **Everyone wants to touch** your  **butt.** They’re lining up, I’m positive of it.”

Peter gave up with a sigh. “Whether anyone  _ wants _ to touch my butt or not, you’re the only one who  _ gets _ to touch it. And as long as you only  _ want _ to kill them for it, and don’t  _ actually _ murder anyone, then we’re fine. This is a murder free relationship.”

“Oh fine,” Wade huffed. “Spoilsport.”

Peter shrugged. “You love me anyway.”

“I really, really do,” Wade agreed.


	19. My boyfriend is out of town

_ my boyfriend is out of town  _

  
  
  
  


“So,” Peter said after a round of luxuriously lazy morning sex, “what do you think happens now?”

He’d half expected fireworks or something, that first kiss after Wade saw his face. If not that, then waking up in their own beds. Something just… automatic. A  _ poof _ moment. So far, it hadn’t happened.

“Well next time I was thinking  _ you _ could top, and then-”

Peter cut him off with a huff. “I mean with  _ this,” _ he clarified, waving his hand in an all-encompassing gesture.

“Oh. Dunno.”

“Maybe there’s some stuff we should try? Things that might help us find a way back home?”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Wade said, laying back. 

Peter rolled his eyes. “I mean, the castle gives you everything else you want… What about just, waving your hand and asking for a doorway home.”

“Oh yeah, because I  _ never _ tried that,” Wade said sarcastically. “Just wave my hand,” he gestured dramatically, “and say  _ one magical doorway home please, _ and suddenly it’s gonna-”

Wade trailed off at the look of shock on Peter’s face. He turned to see what Peter was staring at.

“Well, fuck me.”

A door had appeared on the wall. And it didn’t match the castle. It looked like a typical New York City apartment door. It had a peephole and numbers on it and everything.

“That can’t have just…  _ worked, _ right? I mean, it can’t be that easy. Trust me, I  _ did _ try that before. A hundred times. It’s gotta be some sort of trick. I’m not  _ fixed. _ We have no idea where that door leads.”

“Wade, that’s  _ my _ door,” Peter said. “That’s the door to my apartment. Seriously. I don’t know how, but it is.”

“But I’m not-”

“Who knows what  _ fixed _ even means? None of us are totally in our right minds! Being a little crazy is practically in the superhero job description. And look at how far you’ve come. You remember who you are, the real you. And you know who I am. That’s huge.”

Wade was silent for a long time. Then he whispered, “that’s what she said.”

Peter laughed and hit him with a pillow. “C’mon, Wade, let’s give it a try.” He smiled temptingly. “Besides,  **my boyfriend is out of town.** My bed hasn’t been seeing any action. Don’t you wanna help me give the springs a workout?”

“Boyfriend?” Wade asked suspiciously.

“Oh shit, no, I mean  _ you. _ Y’know, because you’ve been here. Which isn’t in town, per se. And now we’re… well I guess we haven’t talked about what this is specifically, but I assumed-”

“You’re cute when you ramble awkwardly, Petey Pie. C’mon, let’s go check out your digs.” He pushed up from the bed and waved his hand at himself. A full tuxedo appeared on him. “What do you think? Formal enough for my first time over?”

Peter laughed. “How about something more casual? This is a broke college student’s apartment, after all.” Wade waved his hand again, and the tuxedo was replaced by a t-shirt printed to look like a suit and tie. “Perfect. Think you could rustle me up something?”

Wade grinned lecherously and snapped his fingers. A tiny g-string with a Deadpool logo appeared, barely covering Peter’s penis. Peter looked at the thong, then at Wade, who was admiring the view. He ripped the flimsy material off, wadded it up, and threw it at Wade’s head.

Wade allowed it to hit him right in the face and then pocketed the thong with a grin.

“How about you just magic my Spiderman suit back onto me for now, huh? I need to get that thing home and wash it, anyway.”

“Fiiiine,” Wade huffed. “Killjoy.” An instant later, Peter was in his suit, mask in hand. “Alright, let’s give this a try.”

Peter took his hand, lacing their fingers together. They’d face it together. Wade opened the door, and they walked through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter catches me up to up to where we should be!
> 
> Also, I debated on putting this in the notes, but I decided to just do it so no one is disappointed - and it's a spoiler of sorts, so if that's not your thing, then look away now. A lot of you have noticed that they are heading to happily ever after and there are still a lot of days left. The thing is, I don't have any big twists up my sleeve. Honestly, this story wasn't even supposed to have plot at all. It was supposed to be just straight up porn, but I'm apparently incapable of that! So anyway, the plot came about as a way of justifying all the porn I wanted to write, and now that I've got them together, I'm going to get back to the porn! Hopefully the story will still be interesting enough for everyone, without epic twists on the horizon.


	20. Special doctors examination

_ special doctor’s examination  _

  
  
  
  


Peter’s apartment looked exactly like every other poor college kid’s apartment did. There really was no reason for Wade to be examining every inch of it as though it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. Still, Peter didn’t try to stop him. He was finally  _ home. _ Both of them were. Peter would happily watch Wade study the apartment for days on end.

Speaking of which… Peter went to his bedroom to find his cell phone. On the way, he grabbed a pair of sweatpants for Wade - who’s outfit had vanished as soon as they’d crossed the threshold. They’d be too small, but at least his butt would be covered.

Peter was relieved to see the phone was still on. However long they’d been gone, it couldn’t have been  _ that _ long if the battery still had some charge.

04:17 a.m. Thursday 19th December

According to his phone, Peter had been gone less than twelve hours. That… wasn’t possible. There was no way! It had to have been  _ at least _ three days. But maybe time flowed differently in Wade’s dimension. Peter checked two other places to make sure, and they all showed the same time.

There were half a dozen texts on his phone too.

_ Stark 16:49 - What the fuck was that! You’d better have your phone on you!  _

_ Stark 16:50 - Answer your damn phone! _

_ Stark 16:52 - What the hell were you even thinking? You don’t just run off with fucking demons! I’m getting goddamn grey hairs, and it’s your fault. _

_ Stark 16:55 - I swear to god once you get back and I make sure you’re okay, I’m going to KILL you, kid. _

_ Stark 19:02 - Come home, damnit. _

_ Banner 22:00 - If you see this, call as soon as you get back. Everyone is worried. _

Peter grimaced, swallowing back guilt. He hadn’t meant to worry anyone, but he couldn’t have just left Wade to his fate. He sent matching texts to both Mr Stark and Mr Banner.

_ I’m back. Bringing Deadpool to Stark Tower. Can someone call in Dr Strange for me? _

***

Ten minutes later, Peter landed on the 33rd floor balcony of Stark Tower, with Wade clinging to him like a damsel in distress. He was still wearing only too-small sweatpants, and obviously loving every second of it. He kept batting his eyes up at Peter dramatically and sighing.

“Don’t even think about it, Wade. We are  _ not _ banging in Mr Stark’s place. We’re here to get you checked out by the doctor.”

“Oooh,” Wade said excitedly, “ **A special doctor’s examination** ?”

“No, a  _ real _ doctor’s exam. With a real doctor, which I am not. There will be no ‘happy ending.’”

Wade pouted.

“If you behave during the  _ real _ exam, then later, we can have a special doctor’s exam,” Peter coaxed.

“Will you wear a nurse’s outfit? No, wait, a doctor’s outfit with the coat, but under the coat-” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the smallest pair of underwear Peter owned. How had Wade even gotten his hands on those?

“Fine!” Peter snatched away the underwear and shoved them in his pocket before anyone could see them.

“And you’ll take my temperature the old fashioned way?”

Peter groaned and opened the door, already regretting this. There would be absolutely no thermometers involved in their sex. Though, he supposed, they could pretend that he had one very large, extra special thermometer… Peter shook his head to clear it and pushed Wade through the door ahead of him.


	21. How can I improve my grade?

_ how can I improve my grade?  _

  
  
  


When Peter returned to the exam room, he was glad to see Wade was wearing a long sleeved shirt in addition to the sweatpants. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet while Mr Stark, Mr Banner, and Dr Strange bustled around, and at first, Peter hadn't realized why. Then it hit him, and he felt like a heel. It had taken a lot of time, and a lot of trust, for Wade to show his scars to Peter. Now, several people were looking at him half dressed.

Peter had pressed a kiss to his cheek and then herded Mr Stark and Mr Banner out of the exam room to give him some privacy. He’d let Mr Stark berate him for almost half an hour about his recklessness. Even Bruice had had some choice words about Peter’s actions.

And yeah, maybe they had some points. It would have been smarter for them to figure it out as a team. Not to go into the situation blind. They could have worked together. But Peter couldn’t have taken the chance that they would have been too late. Or worse, that they would have decided not to help.

When he’d voiced that concern, Mr Stark had stormed up to him, yanked him forward by the front of his shirt, and said, “if it’s important enough to you for you to risk your life over, then I’m in. No matter what. But don’t you ever pull a stunt like this again. Not alone.”

And that… had been surprisingly touching. Even after Peter had nodded, and Mr Stark had let go of him and stomped off muttering about  _ idiotic youth, _ Peter was smiling. He was starting to realize that this whole  _ team _ thing was more than that. It was a family.

“He’s right, you know,” Bruice had said after Mr Stark left. “You’re not alone any more, kid. You don’t have to act like you are. Even if your taste in men is… questionable.” Then he’d clapped Peter on the back, said he was glad to have him home, and returned to the lab.

It was still a little surreal.

Wade was doing puppet hands at Dr Strange when Peter walked in. Which, while not ideal, wasn’t the worst thing Peter could have walked into, so he wasn’t going to complain.

“Sweet cheeks!” Wade turned both puppet hands toward Peter. “I was just explaining to the doc here how yellow and white work.” He mimed them arguing with each other and then getting violent. Peter separated the hands before any blood was spilled.

Dr Strange turned to Peter, obviously fed up with Wade. “He seems… as normal as it’s normal for him to be. Obviously extensive therapy would be a good idea, but I doubt that’s in the cards.” He barely acknowledged Wade’s violent head shake. “Physically, I can’t find any fault. His regeneration is as active as ever, and his body is fully anchored to this dimension. But I’m curious as to who was showing him alternate dimensions, and why.”

“Don’t know the name of the horn-head who started this whole mess,” Wade said with a shrug.

“And I don’t know the name of the one who told me he had Wade. Or even if it was the same demon. I thought…” Peter hesitated, feeling the guilt of his suspicion like a weight on his chest. “I wondered, while we were there, if it wasn’t maybe…  _ me _ the demon was targeting. I didn’t understand why it would create a place that catered to him. But if it was just taking advantage of a situation that presented itself, then…”

Dr Strange nodded. “A low level demon wouldn’t be capable of creating a pocket universe like the one Mr Wilson has described to me. My best guess would be that in between dimensions, this place created itself around  _ him. _ As for the intentions of the demon, I can’t say for sure. But I’m going to find out.”

He stripped off his exam gloves with a look of grim determination. Peter sincerely hoped that the demon would get what was coming to it. At the door, the doctor turned back.

“I’ll check to be certain, but if the dimension formed itself around Mr Wilson, it should be safe to revisit, should you wish. Though you’ll want to be careful - anything created there can’t be brought back to our world.”

“Oh, er-” Peter blushed. “Yeah, we figured that out.” Wade’s clothes vanishing when they’d returned had been a pretty big clue. Still, it was nice to have confirmation. “Thanks, doc.”

Dr Strange nodded and then left, closing the door behind him.

“Well,” Peter said, taking Wade’s hand, “how do you feel?”

“Right as smog-laden, toxic rain. You?”

“Hungry. And like I’ve got-” he checked the time on his phone, “three hours to finish three different homework assignments.”

“Well, the food I can help with. I know all the best all night taco trucks. The homework you’re on your own for. Unless you wanna do some unethical double-teaming. You go talk to your professor, put on your best sexy pout, ask ‘ **how can I improve my grade?’** and I can be in the background very vividly miming oral sex - which I would be preforming, of course. Can’t have you sullying that sweet mouth with old man schlong.”

Peter’s face went from amusement, to shock, to disgust. He smacked Wade’s arm.  _ “No! _ I am not attempting to exchange sexual favors for homework! Especially not sexual favors that my  _ boyfriend _ would be giving! No!”

“Fine,” Wade sighed, “I’ll be standing in the back twirling my guns menacingly. That’ll probably get you just as much special treatment.”

“No,” Peter said firmly. “No sexual favors, no threats. I’ll just call in sick tomorrow.”

“Ooh, playing hookie! Daddy likey. You get some sleep, do your homework, and the rest of the time can be an all day bang fest!”

Peter wanted to roll his eyes, but he thought it was pretty safe to assume that’s exactly what would happen. “C’mon,” he said, starting to the door. Wade caught his arm with a mischievous grin.

“Wait. There’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”

***


	22. Caught in the act

_ caught in the act  _

  
  


Peter was baffled as Wade took the Spiderman mask and pulled it down over Peter’s face. Then he mimed like he was just coming in through the door.

“Oh, Spiderman, I’ve finally found you.” He was talking like a bad actor in a daytime drama.

Peter had no idea how he was supposed to respond, so he just nodded.

“I can’t take it any more,” Wade continued, just as dramatically. “I can’t control myself.” He stepped closer, blocking Peter’s exits. “I have to have you, Spiderman. Right here. Right now.”

Peter started to protest. Really, he did. Or, at least, he’d  _ meant _ to start to protest. But then Wade’s teeth had found the sweet spot on Peter’s neck, and his hands had slid into Peter’s pants, and the protest had died in his throat. He kept telling himself that in just one more moment he was going to put his foot down and make Wade stop. Really, they shouldn’t be doing this in Stark Tower. It was disrespectful, not to mention there were cameras  _ everywhere. _

But then Wade knelt down, and then  _ oh good god _ he had swallowed Peter’s length and was using his throat like a cocksleeve. Peter’s head thunked against the wall as he let go of all rational thought. 

“Pete, don’t forget to-  _ oh my fucking god!” _

Peter choked as Mr Stark covered his eyes with his hands and made a high pitched sound of distress.

“I’m sorry! Oh man, I’m so, so sorry!” Peter pushed Wade - who hadn’t bothered to stop sucking - back and shoved himself in his pants.

“What the _ hell! _ You two have  _ homes! _ You have your own beds! I didn’t need to see that! I did  _ not _ need to see that! 

“I’m so sorry, Mr Stark. We’re going there now. Right now. Right, Wade?” He didn’t wait for Wade to agree. “Right.” He turned to the door that led to the balcony and went out, face flaming under his mask.

Wade shrugged, wiped his mouth, and stood up to follow. His hand was on the doorknob when Stark grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Wilson-” His voice was suddenly low and threatening. 

Wade knew what was coming and beat him to it.

“Don’t worry. If I hurt him in any way, I’ll cut my  _ own _ head off and present it to you on a silver platter. Protective speech received loud and clear, Iron-dad.”

Stark kept ahold of Wade’s arm, staring at him. After a long, tense moment, he nodded and let Wade go.

Wade was already out the door when Tony said, “wait, what do you mean  _ Iron-dad?” _

Wade laughed and wrapped himself around Peter again. A moment later, they were swinging through the city headed home.

  
  



	23. Double dicking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure filth, people. Take heed.

_ double dicking  _

  
  
  
  
  


It was a little nerve wracking, seeing the door open and waiting to be walked through. Dr Strange had assured them that there was absolutely no risk of getting stuck, and that no one could get in that they didn’t invite, but still. Peter was… hesitant.

Wade saw it, the way he saw everything about Peter, and started to cross back to Peter’s side of the door. “Another time, maybe. No rush-”

Peter crossed into the pocket dimension in two quick steps, pushing Wade back with him. “No. I want to do this. Really,” he added when Wade looked unconvinced. “I do. I’m excited. I just needed to take those first steps. It’s fine.”

And really, it was. So much about this place had changed. There was still a castle, because it was  _ Wade, _ and drama queen that he was, of  _ course _ there was a castle, but there was also sunshine. There were friendly looking alligators in a moat that hadn’t been there before. There was a fancy sports car with Deadpool’s logo on it, and no roads to drive it on. Above the door, Peter noted with a laugh, was a huge banner that said  _ Wade and Peter’s Love Nest. _

Peter couldn’t wait to see what was inside.

***

“Are you ready for your present?”

Peter nodded, unable to speak. Wade had kept him on edge for what seemed like  _ hours. _ He was so desperate to come, he was certain that as soon as Wade started fucking him, he’d come untouched. The prostate massager Wade had been using on him was almost more than he could bear. He was so, so,  _ so _ ready for whatever Wade had planned. He arched his back, pushing his ass into the air shamelessly.

Behind him, Wade groaned. Then he snapped his fingers, and suddenly they weren’t alone in the room any more.

There was another Wade, standing motionless at the foot of the bed. He was naked, and his cock was hard.

_ Oh my lord, _ Peter thought, his mouth watering.

“This still a fantasy you want to play out?”

“Y-yes. Yes, definitely.”

Wade - the original Wade - stroked Peter’s back. “Remember what to do if you want to stop?”

Peter glanced back at him. “You mean aside from just push you away, because I’m stronger than even two of you?” Wade just waited, brow raised. “Make a fist,” Peter recited dutifully.

“Good boy,” Wade praised. “Now, are you ready to take a  **double dicking** like the good little slut you are?” He slid his hand up Peter’s spine and fisted his fingers in Peter’s hair, pulling his head back sharply.

_ “Yes,” _ Peter breathed.

“You’re going to come with my cock in your ass  _ and _ in your throat?”

“Yes, please.” He was begging shamelessly at this point, but Peter didn’t care. He wanted it so fucking bad.

“Well then, you’d better tell him what you want.” Wade gestured to his twin, who was still standing motionless. “Ask nicely.”

Peter looked up at the impressive erection that was right at his eye level. “Please, fuck my throat.”

“Hmm… no, not good enough. Try again, baby. Really make me believe you want it.”

“Please let me suck your cock,” Peter begged. “Make me choke on it. Use me like I’m nothing but a come dumpster. Please, please fill me up from both ends.”

For half a moment, Wade seemed shocked at Peter’s filthy plea, but then he smirked. “Oh baby, be careful what you wish for. Because you’re gonna get it.”

Suddenly the twin-Wade stepped forward, put both hands on the back of Peter’s head, and thrust into his mouth. He buried himself in Peter’s throat right to the hilt, then started thrusting without any pause.

Peter had come a long way learning about how to deepthroat in the time that he and Wade had been together, but it was always a challenge to swallow the enormity of Wade’s erection. Now, twin-Wade was giving Peter just what he’d asked for - he was choking on it. The rush of arousal combined with the lack of air made Peter’s head spin and his cock throb. His throat was stuffed just long enough that his lungs started to burn, and then twin-Wade pulled back. Peter sucked in a great gulp of air, and then it started again. Peter groaned around the thick intrusion. He knew tears and spit were trickling down his face, and he didn’t care. He just wanted more.

On the second gasp of air, Peter felt the blunt head of Wade’s cock at his ass. In one rough thrust, he filled Peter up. Peter’s back bowed and his scream was stifled. His whole body tensed, overloaded with sensation. His hands almost curled into fists automatically, but he knew Wade would be watching like a hawk for that, so he purposely kept his hands splayed wide on the bed. He didn’t want this to stop. He never wanted it to end.

Soon, the two Wades picked up a rhythm. Real Wade pounded into him, rocking Peter forward with the force of his thrusts, which impaled Peter’s throat on twin-Wade’s cock. Peter was choking, and crying, and and moaning for more. It was  _ bliss. _ Wade smacked Peter’s ass hard enough to bruise, and then Peter was  _ coming, _ harder than he ever had in his life, but  _ different, _ like the orgasm was being punched out of him. He felt himself ejaculate, but the feeling of orgasm didn’t fade. His cock stayed hard, throbbing with arousal, eager for more. He whimpered.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good boy, coming on my cock like that. Are you ready for your reward, Peter? I’m going to come in you. Gonna fill you up. Pump you full of it and make you swallow it down at the same time. And Petey… you’re gonna come again for me.”

Peter moaned, trying to shake his head, but twin-Wade held him still.

“You’re going to come again, baby. Because you wanna show me just how much you love this. Because you want to be a good boy.” He leaned down, mouth right by Peter’s ear. “And because I fucking said so.”

Peter shuddered. If he hadn’t  _ just _ come, he’d have gone off from those words alone. Wade reached around and took Peter’s aching cock in his hand, then started to stroke him roughly. It was just what he needed. He was over-sensitive, and if Wade had been gentle, it would have been tickling, distracting. The hard grip and relentless tugging was just the right side of painful. It made the pleasure sharp, made him feel like he was nothing but a receptacle of lust. It  _ consumed _ him.

Twin-Wade was holding Peter’s head down, cutting off his air again, and Wade was driving into him at a punishing pace, and stroking him in time with the thrusts, and Peter thought  _ this is it, this is nirvana, _ and then- 

And then his second orgasm slammed into him like a fucking sledge hammer. He screamed, then was swallowing convulsively as twin-Wade filled his throat with come. Wade behind him jackhammered into his ass and then stilled, cock pulsing. It was the most used Peter had ever felt. He couldn’t have asked for anything more.

Wade snapped his fingers, and twin-Wade pulled out and vanished. Peter took a shuddering breath and then  _ sobbed. _ He collapsed down onto the bed, only his ass still in the air where Wade was holding him up. Gingerly, Wade let himself slip free, and then settled Peter fully against the mattress. He waved away the mess of fluids, grabbed the thick comforter, and wrapped both the blanket and his body around Peter. He cuddled Peter close and let him cry.

After a few minutes, Peter managed to calm his breathing. Wade was still kissing away his tears, and he laughed. “Holy  _ fuck _ that was amazing.”

“Yeah?” Wade grinned, obviously relieved. 

“Yeah. More than amazing. That was… there isn’t a word for what that was. Just… ugh.” He kissed Wade, hard. “Thank you.”

Wade kissed him back. “My pleasure. Literally.” He laughed. “I’ll admit, I’m jealous. Think of how fun this would be the other way around. Two of you, fucking me to tears…”

“Wade-” They’d talked about this before. Wade enjoyed sex in  _ all _ its forms. There was nothing he didn’t want to do to Peter and have Peter do to him. But rough sex, and degrading dirty talk in particular, made Peter extremely wary. Wade had a twisted relationship with pain, and still struggled with his self-esteem. Peter wanted to fulfil every fantasy Wade had, but he couldn’t push those particular things until he was one hundred percent certain that they would be just that-  _ fantasy. _ The idea of Wade believing, even for one milisecond, that Peter thought he was a slut, or only good for sex, or whatever kinky thing he might say, was too much for him to bear. “Someday,” he promised. Someday, they’d get there. He’d be able to trust that Wade was ready for it.

And when that day came… Peter was going to have one hell of a time.

  
  



	24. Self discovery

_ self discovery _

  
  
  


There wasn’t much that Wade and Peter hadn’t explored in the bedroom. Wade was absolutely shameless, and was eager to try  _ anything _ with Peter. Plus, he had just enough experience that he could help broaden Peter’s horizons when it came to all the many forms of intimacy.

The one thing that they hadn’t tried was the one thing Peter was afraid to bring up.

It was stupid, really. Not just because the kink was stupid - and it  _ was; _ it was just one stupid little thing! - but also because it was ridiculous that he was uncomfortable bringing it up. Wade would do anything he thought Peter would enjoy. He had no reservations. He’d been more than accommodating to everything Peter had wanted to try, or even just been curious about.

But  _ this- _ This just seemed like… something else.

The thing was, Wade had joked about it, once or twice before. Peter remembered the comment he’d made about Tony walking in on them, back when they’d been stuck in the pocket dimension turned sex mansion. Peter, still oh-so-innocent, had been moritified by the idea of anything resembling a father figure paired with anything resembling sex. Wade hadn’t brought it up again, but there had been other moments. Every once in a while, Wade would say  _ Daddy-likey _ when he particularly enjoyed something.

Peter got a little shiver every time he said it.

It was  _ stupid. _ So, so, so ridiculous. Asinine! 

But-

But, deep down, in some twisted, kinky, perverted part of him that Wade was coaxing to the surface, Peter wanted to call Wade daddy in bed.

_ Ugh. _

It wasn’t like he wanted to call him that all the time. There was nothing paternal about the way Wade treated him, and Peter didn’t feel even remotely like a child around him. Maybe, if Peter had known his own father, it would have squicked him out. But Peter hadn’t. And there was just something about calling Wade that, giving him that  _ authority, _ letting himself be - even if only for a moment - totally under Wade’s power. It felt  _ naughty. _

And Peter wanted to punch himself in the face just for thinking that word.

It was a stupid word. For a stupid fantasy.

_ Stupid daddy kink. _

So, he hadn’t brought it up to Wade, yet. Peter had hoped, for a while now, that it would just… go away. That something would click, and he would realize it was as stupid as he’d been telling himself it was, and  _ poof, _ no more daddy kink.

So far, that had yet to happen.

Which was why Peter was here, alone in his bed, a hyper-realistic dildo in his ass, and his eyes squeezed shut. He was just going to  _ try _ it. Just the once. Maybe saying the words out loud would fix it. He’d be able to  _ hear _ how ridiculous he sounded.

Or maybe he’d come all over himself, realize that he was a dirty, filthy boy, and fess up to Wade.

Either way, he was going to find out. By the time Wade came back to New York the following morning, Peter would have his answer.

He cautiously pushed the fake cock in and out of himself. It wasn’t often that he did this, and almost never with this Wade-sized dildo. He preferred the real thing whenever he could get it, and when that wasn’t available, his hand or his prostate massager worked just as well for half the effort. But this time, he wanted it to be as much like the real thing as possible. Hell, he’d even considered strapping the damn dick to a big pillow, but in the end, scrapped the idea.

It would have been easier to attach the suction cup to the floor and ride it, but Peter wanted to be on his back for this. He wanted to be passive, as though he was being held down. He wanted to feel small and helpless.

He thrust the cock inside himself hard, and imagined that Wade was thrusting into him. The Wade in his imagination smelled like expensive aftershave. He hadn’t bothered to take his pants all the way off, and his belt buckle rattled with each thrust. He reached up, thickly muscled, scarred forearm exposed by sleeves rolled up past them, and wrapped his hand around Peter’s throat.

“Tell me what you want,” he ordered quietly.

Peter moaned, bucking his cock into his hand at the same time he thrust the dildo inside himself. “I- I want you to fuck me,” he pleaded aloud.

In his imagination, Wade  _ tsk _ ed him. “That’s not how you ask me. Say it right, baby boy.” The thrusting stopped, as though Wade was waiting for Peter to give in.

“P-please fuck me, daddy.”

“That’s it,” Wade purred. “Good boy, Petey. Say it again.”

“Please,” Peter said, louder this time, “fuck me, daddy!”

“How can I resist, when you ask so sweetly?”

Peter’s eyes snapped open. Those words hadn’t been in his head. Wade - the  _ real _ Wade - had said them.

_ Shit. _


	25. Need some help?

_ need some help? _

  
  
  
  


There Wade sat, still in his Deadpool suit, right at the foot of Peter’s bed.

Peter was  _ mortified, _ and his cock throbbed with it, reminding him yet again of just how twisted he was.

Wade grinned. “ **Need some help** ?”

“Wade-”

“Oh no,” Wade cut him off, all the teasing gone from his voice, “that’s not what you were calling me a minute ago.” He crawled up the bed, gathering Peter’s wrists and pinning them above his head. “You were calling  _ me _ that, weren’t you, sweetheart?”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes,” he whispered.

_ “Good.” _

There was so much animalistic pleasure in that one single word, that Peter opened his eyes. Wade was staring at him intensely, the mask now gone, and there was a stillness about him that only occurred when either someone was about to die, or Peter was about to be fucked into oblivion.

“You… don’t mind?”

_ Eloquent, Parker, real eloquent,  _ Peter chided himself.

“Mind?” Wade’s brows rose. He chuckled. “Oh baby, I’m gonna show you just how much I don’t  _ mind. _ But first, daddy’s gonna fuck you into the mattress. Then I’m gonna take my belt to your ass for hiding this from me.” Peter’s cock throbbed visibly between them. “And  _ then, _ I’m going to let you show me just how much of a good boy you can be for daddy.”

Peter nodded eagerly. Already, his shame had vanished. He was sinking deeper and deeper into this scene. First, he was going to take his punishment, then he was going to be a good boy.

Wade made record time stripping out of his suit. Then he grabbed the dildo and carefully eased it out of Peter. Once it had slipped out, he studied it. It really did look  _ exactly _ like his erection. And it should. It had been made with some of the most advanced technology in the world.

Tony had threatened to bleach his eyes when he found out what Wade had broken into Stark Tower and used the 3D replicator for.

“You wanted the real thing, didn’t you, baby?”

“Yes,” Peter admitted.

Wade raised a brow.

“Yes, daddy,” Peter corrected. Wade hummed his approval and casually lubed himself up.

“What were you thinking about me doing to you?” He pressed the head of his cock against Peter’s ass, but didn’t push inside.

“F-fucking me.”

“What else? Be specific, sweetheart.”

“Your hand - on my throat. Making me beg you for it.”

Wade hummed. “My dirty, dirty boy.” He slid his hand up and wrapped it around Peter’s throat. He squeezed, just a little, just enough for Peter to know that the threat was there. “Say it.”

Peter didn’t need to be told twice. “Fuck me daddy, please.” Wade canted his hips until just the head of his cock slid inside. He rocked slowly, taking his time, making Peter feel every inch of it.

“How does that feel, Petey? How’s it feel to have daddy’s cock filling up your ass?”

“Good, good, it’s so good, daddy,” Peter babbled.

Wade growled, and then he  _ snapped. _ He went wild, fucking Peter like a beast, teeth bruising Peter’s shoulder, folding him nearly in half to get even more leverage, to drive deeper into him. It was  _ incredible. _

The first time Peter had been ready to come, Wade had gripped the base of his cock so tightly that the orgasm had been cut off. The second time he did it, Peter had whimpered and begged to be allowed to come.

“Little boys who keep secrets from their daddies don’t get to come,” Wade said sternly.

After Wade’s own orgasm, he’d left Peter naked and trembling on the bed while he got a belt from the closet. Then, he’d turned Peter over his knee and reddened his ass with the thick leather until Peter was writhing and begging mindlessly. Peter had obediently gone to his knees when Wade pushed him down, and he’d sucked daddy’s cock like it was his only reason for living.

And then,  _ then, _ Wade had put him back on the bed, fucked him slow and sweet, until Peter thought he couldn’t take any more.

“Come on daddy’s cock, baby.”

And Peter did just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays, everyone!


	26. Kissing something that shouldn't be kissed

_ kissing something that shouldn’t be kissed _

  
  
  


There was a long silence after Wade pulled out of Peter. It was the first time after fantastic sex that neither of them wanted to speak first. Finally, Peter gave in.

“I thought you were going to be out of town until tomorrow morning.”

Wade shrugged behind him. “Job finished early.”

“Oh.”

The silence descended again. Eventually, Wade sighed and rolled Peter over, so they were face to face. “That was fun,” he said conversationally, belying the serious look on his face.

“It… really was.”

“Care to share why, in all the months we’ve been together, with all the crazy things we’ve done in bed, it’s not till I walk in on you by accident that I find out you’ve got a daddy kink?”

Peter felt himself blush at just hearing the words out loud. “It- it’s not a  _ daddy kink,” _ Peter tried to protest. Wade just raised a brow and waited. “Okay, maybe it’s a  _ little _ bit of a kink. But it wasn’t- It’s not like I was  _ hiding _ it. It just…” He let out a long breath. “It’s stupid.”

“The kink, or the reason why you didn’t tell me?”

“Both!”

“Okay, first off, no. Nothing that you like sexually that I like doing to you, or vice versa, is stupid. Especially not something that is actually a pretty common kink. So let’s just nip that in the bud. And second - look, you’re allowed to keep stuff from me. If there’s something you want to stay private, I respect that. I do. But the thing that worries me is that you seem…  _ ashamed _ of this.”

“I  _ am!” _

“Why?”

“Because! It’s- it’s-”

“How is this any different than me liking to role play, or vouyerism? And don’t even get me started on Very Special Kinky Plushies.”

Peter couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. He’d been unprepared for the Very Special Kinky Plushies, but they were definitely fun. “I guess I was just nervous. I’m not totally comfortable with this one. It would have been totally understandable if you’d have been weirded out.”

Wade studied him for a moment, then sat back against the headboard and pulled Peter against his chest. When Peter was settled comfortably, he started running his fingers gently up and down his spine. “Wanna know how I felt when Strange told us he’d tracked down that demon and it was you it’d been after all along?”

Hesitantly, Peter nodded.

“Furious. I was fucking furious.”

“Wade- I’m  _ sorry.” _

“No! Baby,  _ no. _ Not because of what happened to me. I was furious because I realized that  _ I  _ was your vulnerability. I was your weak spot. I could be exploited to hurt you, and I couldn’t deal with that. I… I almost left.” He held Peter tighter, his body rejecting even the  _ idea _ of letting Peter go. “Thankfully, I came to my senses. I realized that yeah, we were both going to be each other’s weak spots. But that I could give you something that made it  _ worth _ it. I could give you something no one else could.”

Peter looked up at him, searching Wade’s eyes for the answer.

“Me.” He smiled wanly. “Psychotic flaws and all. I could give you  _ me. _ And sure, there are plenty of down sides that come with the package, but there are good things, too. No one would try harder for you than I will. No one will protect you more carefully than I will. No one will be more eager to please you than I will. That’s what I promised myself, Peter. That it was worth it, because I would love you more than anyone has ever loved anyone in the history of the world. And the reason that matters now, is that I need you to understand, beyond a shadow fo a doubt, that there is  _ nothing _ that you could want that I wouldn’t want to give you. Nothing you could want to try that I’m not eager to try with you. There’s nothing stupid, or weird, or too kinky. Not just because I’m me, and of course I like everything. But because you’re  _ you, _ and that means I’m interested. Always.”

Peter found himself blushing again, this time for a much different reason. “Wade, that was…  _ wow.” _ He leaned up and kissed Wade softly.

Wade grinned. “What? I can be romantic!”

Peter laughed. “You really, really can.” He kissed Wade again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you it was something I wanted to try. I won’t be worried about sharing stuff like that with you again.”

“Good.”

***

“So,” Peter said a while later, when they were almost asleep, “there’s really nothing I could want that you wouldn’t want to try?”

“Nope.”

“What if I wanted- like my elbows licked or something?” 

Wade took Peter’s elbow and began dramatically french kissing it. Peter laughed and pulled away. Wade just moved to a different spot. He nuzzled his way high under Peter’s arm and did the same thing again, until Peter was squirming, trying not to giggle and give away the fact that he was ticklish. Wade moved down to his belly button, and kissed there, too.

Wade propped his chin on Peter’s abs and looked up at him. “There isn’t a single part of you that I won’t unabashedly sexualize at your slightest wish.”

“You’d better be careful, or I’ll have you **kissing something that** really **shouldn’t be kissed**!”

A slow smile spread over Wade’s face. “Oh? Like what?” He lifted one of Peter’s knees, pressing it to his chest, and ran his tongue up Peter’s thigh. “This?”

“Not- quite,” Peter said breathlessly. Wade’s proximity to his cock had him getting hard exceptionally fast.

“How about here?” Wade trailed his lips over the curve of Peter’s ass. When Peter moaned, he spread Peter wide. “Here, maybe?” Wade pressed a filthy kiss to Peter’s still-sick hole, and Peter gasped.

This wasn’t the first time Wade had done this to him - not by a long shot - but usually they were either in Wade’s dimension, where things could be magicked clean, or Peter made sure he’d just stepped out of a shower. Right now, there was still  _ stuff _ down there. Lube - admittedly deliciously flavored watermelon lube - and Wade’s own come.

If the way Wade was moaning and pressing his face deeper into Peter’s ass was any indication, he didn’t seem to mind.

Peter held out for half a moment longer, worrying about if it was too weird, or too gross, or too kinky. Then he closed his eyes and decided to let go. Wade really did want every part of him. And Peter wasn’t going to complain about that.

Not one bit.

  
  



	27. In public

_ in public _

  
  


It was practically inevitable. With who they were, and what they did, it wasn’t a matter of  _ if, _ but  _ when. _

Of course they were going to end up having sex  **in public.**

Peter was honestly surprised they’d made it this long before doing it.

He knew that he should feel bad. After all, anyone could walk in at any moment. They could corrupt some poor innocent soul with their depravity. This was  _ wrong. _ But either Wade had rubbed off on Peter more than he’d thought, or he was just a deviant to begin with, because with Wade grabbing his cock and begging to be fucked, Peter was more than happy to comply.

“C’mon, Spidey. Right  _ now.” _ Wade backed himself against the wall and pulled Peter flush against him. “Web my hands up. Just like you had that mugger’s.”

Peter webbed Wade’s wrists together, then shot another web over their heads, lurching Wade up just off his toes.

_ “Fuuuuck _ yeah.” Wade wrapped his legs around Peter’s waist and bucked against him, making what he wanted perfectly clear. Peter was already hard and aching with anticipation. He reached to undo Wade’s belt, but Wade shook his head. “Just fucking rip them. I want you in me  _ now. _ Pin me against this wall just like you did that asshole and  _ fuck _ me!”

Peter didn’t have to be told twice. The leather of Wade’s suit ripped as easily as paper with Peter’s super-strength. He shoved his own pants down far enough to free his cock, then leaned close, putting his forearm across Wade’s throat. With his free hand, he reached into one of Wade’s belt pouches and pulled out their lube. “Someone’s been naughty tonight, haven’t they?” He slicked his cock, then roughly pushed two lubed fingers into Wade. Wade keened. “I should just leave you here for the police, but maybe I’ll have some fun with you first.” Peter pumped his fingers in and out, prepping Wade just enough to keep what was going to follow from being outright painful. “Since I’ve got you helpless, I think you deserve some punishment.”

Wade gasped behind his mask and tightened his legs around Peter’s waist. The night air was cold, and the bricks had to be rough against Wade’s back, but he was obviously loving every moment of it. Peter lifted his forearm off Wade’s throat and wrapped his fingers around it instead. He squeezed at the exact moment he thrust inside Wade’s ass.

Wade’s moan of pleasure was cut off by Peter’s squeezing fingers. He had to bite his lip to stifle his own cry. They were both versatile about who was on top, but most of the time, Peter preferred to bottom. This, though - this was different. This wasn’t Peter and Wade - it was Deadpool and Spiderman. And Spiderman had Deadpool totally at his mercy. It was heady. It was thrilling. It was  _ fucking hot. _

Peter wanted to draw it out, to try to make Wade come just from his cock, but he didn’t want to make this riskier than it already was. He grabbed Wade’s eager erection and started to stroke it in time with his thrusts. 

In no time at all, Wade’s head  _ thunk _ ed back against the brick and he came over Peter’s gloved hand. Peter was only half a second behind him.

Five minutes later, when they had their breath back and had disentangled from each other, Peter started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” 

“I just realized…” Peter bent over, bracing his hands on his knees as he giggled. “How the hell are we gonna get you home with the ass ripped out of your pants??”

Wade stuck out his ass and looked back over his shoulder to inspect the damage. Then he shrugged. “Oh well. Guess the city’s getting a second full moon tonight!”

Peter laughed till he was nearly in tears, then hit Wade’s ass with a web and swung them home.

  
  



	28. Gags

_ gags _

  
  
  


“But look, it’s even got a special DP logo on it!”

Peter glared at the offending item. It did, indeed, have a Deadpool logo on it.

It wasn’t that Peter had anything against gags, as a general rule. Or even this one, specifically. It was that Peter had been trying, for the past  _ week _ to catch up on his favorite show, and he had been constantly interrupted for sex. The worst part was, he couldn’t even really  _ complain, _ because of course it was amazing sex, and he never actually said  _ no _ to it. Wade was a sneaky son of a bitch. He wouldn’t just come out and say,  _ ‘let’s fuck,’  _ and Peter could turn him down. Oh no. He would come out with some exciting, kinky idea that Peter really really wanted to try, and lure him into it! Or, he would see that Peter had a long day at college, and he’d draw him a hot bath, massage him down, and then they’d have slow, sweet sex for  _ hours, _ and  _ poof, _ the night was gone.

Inconsiderate fucker.

This time, Peter wasn’t going to be distracted. He could only avoid show spoilers for so long, and he refused to hear what happened from a group of chatty students at school. With no warning, he tackled Wade to the ground.

_ “Oof!” _ Wade landed hard on his back, momentarily stunned, then he grinned. “Oh, is this how you wanna play it, Petey-pie?” He bucked his hips up meaningfully while trying to tickle Peter.

That was it. All bets off.

***

Two hours later, Peter sighed contentedly and turned off the TV. 

“I didn’t see that twist at the end coming, did you?” He looked back over his shoulder at Wade, who was webbed up in the corner of the room, Deadpool gag firmly in his mouth. Wade nodded.

“Liar,” Peter laughed. Then he went to unbind his chatty boyfriend so that they could sneak in a quick fuck before bedtime.

Maybe he’d leave the gag where it was, though.


	29. Anal milking

_ anal milking _

  
  
  


It had been two long, miserable weeks. Thankfully, not much of Peter’s work for the Avengers took him away from Wade. After all, Deadpool was practically a member of the team at this point. But this time, Wade had been away on another job when Peter had gotten the call, and it hadn’t really made sense for Wade to follow him across the globe when the Avengers already had the situation in hand.

It was the longest Peter and Wade had been apart since they’d gotten together six months before. After their initial sex-a-thon phase, they’d been careful to maintain their own spaces, but they’d still seen each other on patrol, and on a plethora of - sometimes borderline criminal - dates.

Peter had never been more sure that he didn’t want them to ever be apart again.

He’d practically moved into Wade’s much nicer place already. With the fasttrack his schooling was on, he’d be graduated at the end of the year. Mr Stark had already offered him a job. If he was careful with his money, he could buy them a house another year after that. And all his plans for the future were well and good, but he didn’t want to wait.

He wanted the rest of their lives to start  _ right now. _

He’d ask Wade if they could live together, full time. Then, as soon as he’d saved a little, he’d buy a ring.

He was so distracted thinking about it that he didn’t notice Wade waiting for him when he stepped off the jet. He was practically knocked off his feet with the force of Wade’s hug. When it turned into kissing, the other members of the team quickly excused themselves.

Wade barely stopped kissing Peter long enough to get the dimensional key Dr Strange had given him out of his jeans. He shoved it in the nearest door with a keyhole, twisted it, and opened the door to the pocket dimension.

They fell backward through it, directly onto a huge, soft bed.

“Missed you,” Wade said between breathless kisses. Peter nodded fervently against him. He didn’t want to use his mouth for anything but mapping every inch of Wade’s skin.

Wade waved his hand, and all of Peter’s clothes vanished. Once there was nothing between them, he kissed every scrape, every bruise, every bump on Peter’s body. It was something he often did if they’d been working apart, but this time, he was intensely focused, like he wanted to  _ will _ his healing factor into Peter.

When he’d satisfied himself that there were no major injuries, Wade held out his hand, and a prostate massager appeared in it. Peter sucked in a breath.

“I’m going to make you come three times before I even touch your cock, and when you come the fourth time, it’s going to be with me fucking you. Any objection to that?”

_ Holy fuck. _

Peter shook his head mutely.

“Good,” Wade growled. Then, he set to work.

***

The first one had come within minutes. Wade was ruthless with the massager, wielding it with single-minded focus. There hadn’t been time to relieve any pressure while he’d been gone, so Peter had been more than ready for it. He’d shot off almost as spectacularly as he would have with a regular orgasm. 

Wade had just smiled, licked him clean, and started again.

The second one took longer. He was over-sensitive, momentarily drained. Wade didn’t push him too far, too fast. He slowed down, took his time driving Peter right to the edge again. By the time it happened, Peter had been begging for it. When it hit, it was more drawn out, waves of pleasure radiating through him as his cock weakly spurted milky ejaculate.

The third one seemed impossible. Peter’s stamina was supernaturally high, and they’d gone more rounds than this before, but not back to back like this. He had  _ no _ time to recover. Wade was going at him as soon as the last orgasm ended. He honestly wasn’t sure that he had anything left to give.

He was sure that it would take at least twice as long as the previous one, but then all of a sudden it rushed over him, warm and soft, like a wave lapping around him on a beach.

His cock pulsed against his abdomen, trickling out clear fluid.

Peter’s skin was pleasantly buzzing, his mind was in a fog. He felt like he was weightless. He barely noticed Wade pulling out the massager and gathering him close.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “One more now, baby. On me, this time.” When Peter whimpered, Wade stroked his spine, gentling him. “I’ll help you,” he promised.

Achingly slowly, he sank his cock into Peter. It was almost more than Peter could bear. He gasped, overwhelmed by the fullness after so many orgasms. And then - then Wade took Peter’s cock in his fist and started to stroke him.

Peter’s back bowed, and he practically  _ screamed. _ It was like after all that, he’d forgotten what having his erection stimulated felt like. It was  _ consuming. _

Wade’s thrusts were gentle, but he might as well have been slamming into Peter. The sensation was flooding his system, overwhelming him. Every stroke drove him impossibly higher, until he was right there, teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

“Come for me, love,” Wade ordered. And Peter  _ did. _

It was different from anything he’d ever experienced. There was nothing left to come out with it, making the orgasm seem curiously empty. At the same time, though, it was soft, and slow, like a dull ache of pleasure throbbing inside him. When eventually it faded away, he blinked up at Wade, who was watching him with a look of naked adoration.

“Welcome home,” he murmured.

Peter didn’t have the energy to do anything more than smile stupidly back.

Soon, they’d talk. About the future, about their plans together. But for now, this was absolutely perfect.


	30. A shows B porn

_ a shows b porn _

  
  
  
  


“That’s the last of it,” Wade said as he set down a box. Really, there hadn’t been much to move. Most of Peter’s things had already been in Wade’s apartment, and the big things, like the bed and sofa, hadn’t needed brought over. (The college student Peter was subletting his apartment to until his lease was up, was incredibly happy about the place coming furnished. Peter didn’t blame him. He remembered those days.)

Wade was already opening the box and starting to unpack it. He’d been incredibly eager about Peter living with him. Peter would never forget the look of starry-eyed adoration on Wade’s face when Peter had asked about moving in. His gasped,  _ you’d do that? _ was something that had made Peter’s heart throb. Wade’s enthusiasm for Peter, his joy at anything having to do with Peter, never waned. And that was incredibly wonderful.

“Want me to put your laptop over by mine?”

“Sure. I can grab it, though. I’m closer.” Peter took the laptop and leaned over the counter, intending to set it next to Wade’s. Wade’s was open, with what looked like several tabs up. The top one was a  _ very _ explicit porn video, paused on the money shot. “Uh, Wade?”

Peter gestured to the video when Wade looked up. Wade squealed and clapped his hands together. He actually  _ danced _ from foot to foot.  _ “Ooh! _ I forgot! This is that thing that I want to try!”

Peter looked back at the video dubiously.

“Unless the magic in your dimension can do some things to my anatomy that I’m not sure I’m on board with, I don’t think that’s gonna be-”

“Not the  _ vagina _ part,” Wade said in exasperation. He quickly rewound the video to about a third of the way in, and let it start playing. The man had been fucking the woman against a wall, and stepped away from it. She kept her legs wrapped around his waist, let go of his shoulders, and leaned back, spine bent almost in half, until her hands were on the floor. The man kept fucking her, hands cupping her ass for leverage.

“Woah.”

“Think you’re flexible enough for it?” Wade asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Peter looked back at the seemingly impossible position. “I’m honestly not sure.”

“C’mon,” Wade coaxed, coming to stand behind Peter so he could whisper in his ear. “Just think about it. You bent over like that for me… That curve making it so that my cock pounded against your prostate with every -  _ single _ \-  _ thrust.” _

Peter let out a shuddering breath and found himself nodding. “Take your pants off,” he ordered.

Wade practically ripped his jeans from his body, cock standing at attention. There was lube stashed literally all over the apartment, and Peter grabbed the nearest bottle, thrusting it into Wade’s hand as he stripped off his own jeans.

In no time, Wade had Peter’s back braced against the wall, sinking him down on his cock slowly. When he bottomed out, he stayed like that for a moment, letting their foreheads press together as they caught their breath. He pulled back and pushed forward once, twice, a third time. “Ready?”

“God yes.”

Wade stepped back, making sure Peter had room. Peter let go of Wade’s shoulders. He cautiously leaned back, his abs contracting as he held himself parallel to the floor. Slowly, he kept going. His spine bent easily, and soon Peter’s entire upper half was upside down. He braced his hands on the floor. After a few breaths, he was sure he could stay in that position for a long time, if he needed.

Somehow, he doubted they’d be here that long, though.

“Fuck me, Wade,” Peter demanded. Wade wasted no time complying. He tightened his grip on Peter’s ass, then thrust into him, hard. The angle changed  _ everything. _ Wade’s cock wasn’t just brushing against Peter’s prostate. It was hitting it like a battering ram. Every thrust sent ripples of pleasure through him.

Peter had no doubt that he could come untouched like this.

Rather than wait for the orgasm to come to him, Peter tested holding his weight with one hand. Once he was sure he could do it, he reached the other up and started stroking his cock in time with Wade’s thrusts. Wade moaned low at the sight and started thrusting faster.

Two minutes later, Wade hissed, “holy fuck I’m gonna-”

“Me too,” Peter panted. And then it was there, pleasure singing along his veins as Wade pumped into him with a harsh exclamation.

Wade took a moment to steady himself, then grasped Peter’s hand and helped pull him upright.

They’d barely separated when Peter grabbed his phone and started typing rapidly.

“Telling your many admirers how fantastic of a lover I am?” Wade asked smugly.

“Nope. Looking for a good yoga video.”

“Yoga video?”

“We’ve got to start limbering you up, Wade, because baby, you’re doing that next.”

Wade grinned, pumping a fist in the air.  _ “Yeasssss!” _

  
  



	31. Cum denial

_ cum denial _

  
  
  


The devious piece of metal had sat in their bedside table for a month before Peter took it out. Wade ordered it and left it on the counter one day without a word. Peter had no doubt which of them it was for. He’d tucked it in the drawer, and set about doing research.

Finally, he felt ready.

When Wade came home, Peter pulled him into the bedroom and fucked him, hard and fast until they both came spectacularly. Then, he leaned in close and whispered to Wade, “I hope you enjoyed that, baby, because it’s the last one you’re gonna get until I say so.” And he locked the cock cage on.

***

The next two days, Peter did nothing but tease Wade. He bent over at the waist to grab things on the ground, he made innocently suggestive comments, he ate phallic foods. Normally, Wade would take a few hours of that and then just drag Peter off and have his wicked way with him. But with the cage firmly in place, Wade was forced to wait until Peter deemed him ready.

The morning of the third day, Peter pressed his ass back against Wade as they were waking up. Wade whimpered with want. Peter could feel Wade’s cock attempting valiantly to get hard inside the cage. It couldn’t have been comfortable.

Pressing soothing kisses down Wade’s chest, Peter took the key and unlocked the cage. Wade  _ moaned, _ instantly springing to full attention. A moment later, Peter slicked up Wade’s cock and sank down on it.

He rode Wade, slow and easy, until they were both right on the brink. Just before orgasm, he put his hand on Wade’s throat and ordered him,  _ “don’t come.” _

Wade obeyed, though not without great effort.

Carefully, Peter pulled off, cleaned his come off Wade’s chest, and then they laid there, waiting for Wade’s erection to go down.

It was a long wait.

Once it did, Peter locked the cage back into place, looking into Wade’s eyes the whole time, as if daring him to protest.

Wade didn’t say a word.

***

Just before they hit the week mark, Peter began to wonder how long he could push Wade.

Already, this was the longest they’d gone without Wade coming since they’d gotten together. And Wade wasn’t known as a paragon of self-control. Frankly, Peter had been surprised that orgasm denial was something Wade was into. Maybe it was the thrill of it. Or, more likely, it was the focus it forced onto Peter. 

And while the week had been amazing - and the sense of  _ power _ that came with being in charge of the cock cage’s key was incredible - Peter was starting to get anxious for things to go back to normal. He’d more than enjoyed taking his pleasure from Wade, but he missed their mutual satisfaction. He also missed being pumped full of Wade’s come.

Maybe someday, Peter would make them go longer. He’d see just how far he could push Wade, just how long he could keep him on edge before Wade snapped or begged to be released. But not yet.

When Peter walked into the apartment that evening, he didn’t give Wade a chance to say a single word. Peter just dragged him to the bedroom, produced the key, and handed it over. Wade unlocked himself, tossed the cage away, and then surprised Peter by sinking to his knees and taking Peter’s cock into his mouth.

He took his time sucking Peter, taking him deep into his throat with long pulls, pushing Peter right to the brink. And then he backed off. Peter moaned in frustration, but knew he deserved nothing less. Usually their game was  _ how many orgasms can Peter have in a single night, _ but he thought it was safe to say that tonight, it would be  _ how long can Peter last before he helplessly comes all over himself? _

He wanted it to be a good long while, but if the dark gleam in Wade’s eyes was any indication, Peter wasn’t sure how long he would be able to last.

Wade sucked Peter to the pinnacle of orgasm three more times before letting him go and pushing him down onto the bed. Peter went willingly. Wade took his time fingering Peter open, manipulating his prostate until Peter was squirming on the bed and ready to beg for reprieve. Then Wade slid inside of him and started up a stream of the filthiest dirty talk Peter had ever heard from him before. When Wade started pounding into him, Peter wanted, more than anything, to touch his cock, but he knew better than to try.

As if Wade could read his thoughts, he took Peter’s wrists in a single hand and pinned them above his head on the pillow. Peter couldn’t do anything but lay there and  _ take it. _ Less than a minute later, Wade moaned low and came, filling Peter up. A week’s worth of release flooded him, and Peter could  _ feel _ it.

He expected Wade to pull out, maybe to tease him a little more, and then to finally let Peter come.

He was gravely mistaken. When he wiggled his hips, Wade used his free hand to pin him still.

“Don’t move,” Wade ordered darkly. Peter’s cock jumped in arousal, and he obediently stayed still. Peter counted thirty seconds past when he felt Wade’s cock start to fill out again.

_ Oh fuck. _

Wade grinned wickedly as he saw realization cross Peter’s face. Wade was going to keep him pinned down, skewered open on Wade’s cock, filling him up over and over.

“That’s right, baby. Daddy’s gonna breed you so full. And when I do finally let you come, I’m gonna scoop that up and stuff it inside you too. Then I’m gonna put a plug in you so that you stay like that all night, belly bulging with my come.”

Peter could only moan weakly, precome leaking freely from his aching cock.

That was the only encouragement Wade needed. He started thrusting again.

***

Predawn light was giving the bedroom a soft glow as Wade milked Peter’s flushed cock for it’s last drips of ejaculate. Peter was still sobbing with pleasure. Wade carefully eased out of Peter, immediately lifting his hips so that a rush of come didn’t escape Peter’s abused hole. Then he carefully started scooping up Peter’s come and stuffing it into him, just as he’d promised. When he was satisfied, the plug came next, fitting snugly into place. Not a single drop spilled.

When Peter’s eyes finally dried and his breath returned to normal, he was securely in Wade’s arms, being kissed and praised. Wade was softly stroking his hand over Peter’s distended belly. It didn’t look like some of the cum inflation scenes he’d watched with Wade in hentai porn, but it was definitely rounded. He hadn’t really thought that was physically possible - both for him to be that full, or for Wade to produce that much come. Apparently superpowers allowed all kinds of things to happen.

Peter was sore, almost painfully full, and riding a high unlike anything he’d ever known. He turned his face up to Wade and accepted a gentle kiss.

“Next time, we’re going two weeks,” he said.

Wade grinned.


	32. Can't walk after

_ can’t walk after _

  
  


If there was one thing Peter had learned in his year with Wade Wilson, it was that no one could derail plans like Deadpool.

Granted, most of the time they ended up with better, more exciting plans, but still. Sometimes, it could be a little frustrating to be so meticulous with setting something up, only for Wade to pull the proverbial rug out from under him and make Peter rethink everything.

Or, beat him to the punch at something Peter had been waiting months to do.

Still, as infuriating as he could be, Peter had also learned that he loved Wade Wilson more than anyone or anything on this planet, and Peter would happily change all the plans he’d ever made if it meant he got to keep Wade in his life.

Which is why he was grinning, barely acknowledging the sting of his own spoiled plans to propose, as he watched Wade, in his full Deadpool suit with a ridiculously floofy white wedding dress over the top of it, sink to one knee.

The sky above the castle-turned-sex-mansion was a radiant blue, and full of cartoon birds who were singing loudly. A flock of them flew up behind Wade and unrolled a banner held in a dozen tiny feet.

_ Will You Marry Me? _ was written in flowing script, surrounded by hearts.

Peter laughed, his eyes filling with tears of joy. Wade took Peter’s hand in his, looking up at him with those unnaturally expressive white eyes on his mask. “Peter Benjamin Parker…”

“Wait,” Peter said, wiping his eyes. Wade dutifully paused, and Peter pulled the mask off Wade’s face. “There.”

Wade smiled. “Peter Benjamin Parker, will you marry me?”

“Of  _ course _ I will!”

“Woo!” Wade fist pumped, then pulled a ring out of the bodice of the wedding dress and slipped it on Peter’s finger. Unsurprisingly, it fit perfectly. Peter laughed again, pulled Wade to his feet, and threw his arms around Wade’s shoulders to kiss him breathless.

When he finally pulled back, he reached into his pocket for the ring that he’d been carrying there for almost a month, looking for the perfect time. “I should have known you’d beat me to it,” he said with a soft smile.

Wade’s smile was blinding. “You were gonna propose to me?”

“I’ve known for a long time now that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, Wade. Of course I was going to propose.”

Wade squealed, pulled off his glove with his teeth, and presented his hand to Peter. Peter slipped the ring on, then lifted Wade’s hand to his mouth and kissed just below where the band rested.

“So,” he asked, voice pitched low, “How do you want to celebrate, future Mr Wilson Parker?”

Wade’s pupils dilated abruptly, his breath catching in his throat. “Well, I’d planned on champagne, a fancy dinner, maybe romance under the stars, but you keep calling me that and I’m going to take you inside and fuck you till you  **can’t walk after.** ”

“Then I guess you'll just have to carry me to the dinner and romance, because right now, Mr Wilson Parker, I want nothing more than for you to do exactly that.”

Wade groaned low and scooped Peter up in his arms. “Your wish is my command, future Mr Parker Wilson.” He took them into the castle, straight to a magically manifested bed, and spent the next several hours granting Peter’s wish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet, but hopefully a worthwhile end to this story. Happy new year, everyone! I hope you enjoyed reading this even half as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for coming along for the ride < 3 💙


End file.
